Burning Up
by Divine Sally Bowles
Summary: * SEE INTERLUDE! * Sequel to Love For Rent. MarkOC, RogerMimi, MoJo. 1993 has come, and with it, change. While some of the boho gang grapple with parenthood, Mark and Trai receive some unexpected news of their own that threatens to upend their lives...
1. It's The End of the World

**A/N- Hello, my dear readers, and wilkommen, bienvenue, welcome to **_**Burning Up**_**, the sequel to **_**Love For Rent.**_** Before we get started, I'd like to get a few things out of the way.**

**Disclaimer- While I do own a Mark scarf, **_**Without You**_**, and other Rent odds and ends, the characters and story of Rent itself belong to the dearly beloved Jonathan Larson. Thank you so much, Jonathan, for gifting the world with something so beautiful and for bringing so many people together.**

**With that, I would like to thank and dedicate this story to three wonderful people that Rent has brought into my life—my second family, my "older sisters" Belinda, Samantha, and Lily. Bella will forever be in my heart as my Mark, one of the most amazing people I know and certainly someone I hope to be friends with for a long time. Sami is my Roger, the inspiration for the Trai/Roger in LFR and this story that a lot of you praised. I love you, Sami, and thank you for all you've done for me. And Lily is my favorite nerd, the one who I can quote **_**Elizabethtown**_** with, act like a total idiot, talk about soulmates, and who I must credit with coming up with the character of Holly. Thank you, my darling.**

**Now, on with the story. Thank you, everyone!**

**_"It's the end of the world as we know it/It's the end of the world as we know it/It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine..."_**

**- "It's The End of the World (As We Know It)"  
R.E.M.**

* * *

**Burning Up**

Chapter One  
It's The End of the World  
(As We Know It)

"Mark?"

Trai Buscemi slowly stepped into the kitchen. Her fiancé, Mark Cohen, gave a wide grin, leaving the sauce he'd been stirring to simmer while he came over and kissed her gently. "Hey. Nice nap?" he asked. She'd been sleeping when he came home.

"Yeah, yeah… sure…" Trai seemed distracted. "Um… can we… can we talk, Mark?"

"Sure, baby." Concerned, he sat her down. "About what?" he asked as he took a seat next to her.

She shifted uncomfortably and looked away. "I think I might be pregnant."

Mark looked at her for a minute, gently tucking her hair behind her ear. "Oh," he said quietly.

In his head, what he was really saying was _oh, shit._

Trai looked at the floor. "I… I didn't want to take a test… Mark… I'm scared," she whispered.

Mark reached over and pulled her into an embrace. "I know," he said gently. "I am too. I know."

Valentine's Day, 1993. 6 PM, Eastern Standard Time.

Three and a half months since the miscarriage. A month and a half since Trai's return and Mark's proposal.

Mark very gently rubbed her back to comfort her. "Have you missed your period?" he asked softly.

Trai nodded, close to tears. "This month and last."

Mark smoothed her hair and whispered, "Trai, we'll get through this. I promise you we'll get through this."

"I don't want to lose another baby. I can't," she whispered, trembling.

"I know. Shh… shh… don't cry. Don't cry, baby… it's okay…"

Trai shook in his arms, then wrapped hers around his neck, just wanting to be held. He rested his cheek against the top of her head as she cried, stroking her hair calmly, tenderly. "Shh… shh… I'm here…"

Finally, when her tears had died down a bit, Mark tilted her face to his. "Do you want me to get the test?" he asked her, gently, trying not to upset her.

Trai nodded.

Slowly, Mark got up, not wanting to leave her when she was so upset. He kissed her for a second, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Then he pulled away, setting the sauce and the rest of dinner aside half-prepared, and grabbed his coat and scarf.

He stopped at Roger's on the way down the stairs.

"Come in!" Roger called as Mark knocked.

Mark found Mimi and Roger on the floor, playing with their daughter, Lauren, who was almost seven months old by now. "We have a bit of an issue," Mark said slowly.

Roger's expression shifted immediately to concern. "Is Trai okay?" Roger and Trai had gotten to be very close, and Roger was really protective of her, almost more so than Mark.

Mark let out a slow breath. "If you call a potential pregnancy okay."

Roger looked up, the same concern in his eyes that Mark had felt earlier. Very softly, he said, "Shit."

"I know," Mark said quietly, swallowing hard. "I… I really don't know what to do… she's so scared…"

"You said potential—she's not sure?" Mimi asked.

Mark nodded. "But she's late."

"By how much?" Mimi prodded gently.

"She missed last month and this one," Mark sighed, shutting his eyes and leaning against the wall. _Don't freak out... don't freak out..._

Mimi bit her lip. "I'll come with you to get the test… Rog, take Lauren… try to keep Trai calm until we get back…"

* * *

"How much longer?" Trai whispered into Mark's shoulder. 

Mark checked his watch. "Four minutes," he said gently, squeezing Trai's shoulder. But for the past eleven minutes, his stomach had been in knots. Trai wasn't much better; she'd already thrown up twice, worried sick.

Trai closed her eyes and tried not to freak out again. "I don't think I can do this," she whispered. "I really, really don't…"

Mark rubbed her back, though his hands were shaking. "Shh," he soothed. "We… we don't know yet if you are."

"You honestly doubt it?" Trai whispered.

_I wish I could say I could._ "I don't… I'm sorry, baby… I'm just… freaking out a little still."

Trai nodded and pulled closer into him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

After what felt like an eternity, his watch beeped. Mark felt his stomach clench. Shaking now, Trai whispered, "Please look?"

Mark slowly got up, looking at the test sitting on the sink.

He was met by two pink lines.

_Oh, shit. Oh, shit…_

"Mark?" Trai whispered, shakily, from the floor. He couldn't speak. He sat down beside her and pulled her close, trying not to cry.

"Positive?" she whispered.

Mark nodded.

Scared out of her mind, Trai almost started hyperventilating. Mark hugged her, rubbing her back, trying anything to soothe her, though he was terrified himself. "It's okay, baby, it's okay… we can get through this, baby, I swear…"

After a while, Trai said quietly, "Okay… okay… can you help me up?"

"That's my girl," Mark whispered. He got up and helped her off the floor. "You need anything?" he asked softly.

"I just want to lie down… can you get Roger?" Trai asked, a little timidly.

Mark knew Roger would want to know if Trai was pregnant or not anyway, since they were close, and knew that his best friend could help to calm her down more as well. "Sure, baby. Go lie down. I'll be right back."

Before he left, Trai kissed him. He kissed her back and stroked her hair for a moment before he left to go downstairs.

Roger practically leapt up when he opened the door. "Is she…?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah. She is."

Roger breathed in and let it out. "Would you mind if I went to see her?"

"She wants to see you, actually; it's why I'm here."

Roger nodded and went upstairs. He softly pushed open the door to the bedroom, finding Trai lying on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chest. "Trai?" he said, very softly.

Trai looked up, and he realized that her face was streaked with tears. "Oh, Trai…" he whispered, sitting down on the bed and grasping her hand.

"How can I do this?" she whispered into his shoulder as he pulled her into a hug. "I don't… I can't…"

Roger gently made her look at him. "We're all behind you, Trai. You can do this," he said softly.

"I'm going to lose it," Trai whispered shakily.

"You're not going to lose it," Roger whispered, knowing enough not to promise but wishing he could. "We'll do everything we can to make sure of that."

Trai just nodded, not quite reassured.

* * *

Early the next morning, she was sitting with Mark in the office of the obstetrician at the clinic. They wanted to be absolutely sure of her pregnancy, and to ask a few questions about it in general. 

Though she was a little less shaken, Trai was still a little high-strung. She'd barely eaten the night before, worn out from worrying and getting sick previously. Mark knew that the both of them hadn't slept much, either.

Mark kept his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. Finally the obstetrician came in.

"Hi, Ms. Buscemi, Mr. Cohen," she said with a smile. "I'm Doctor Montgomery." She offered them her hand; both of them shook. Montgomery took a seat across from them.

She looked first at Trai, then at Mark. "To start… your test was positive, Tracy," she said gently. Trai inhaled a slow breath and surveyed the floor, her hand on Mark's squeezing painfully tight.

Montgomery watched her, all too familiar with scenes like this. She knew that Trai had miscarried a few months before, and laid a comforting hand on Trai's. "We're going to do all we can to monitor the baby all throughout your pregnancy," she assured Trai. "As long as you get prenatal care, as long as you allow us to monitor the baby, this will go fine," she said softly.

Trai leaned into Mark, shaking a little. Mark whispered, "Hear that? Everything will be fine."

Trai breathed out a shuddery sigh, trying not to think of the D and C she'd gone through the day she'd lost Grace. Roger had carried her half-conscious to the hospital, where she'd been put under heavy sedation and brought into surgery in order to complete the miscarriage. Trai had been alone and absolutely terrified. She'd had nightmares about it for nights after, often waking up crying, which had scared Mark.

"Take this," Montgomery said, handing Trai a prescription. "Prenatal vitamins. It's not absolutely necessary that you take them, but they'll help you and the baby. Do you have any questions?"

"I, um… how far along am I, exactly?" Trai asked quietly.

"About six weeks, from the look of things," Montgomery told her.

Trai breathed out slowly. "Shit," she whispered.

Mark knew what she was thinking. _The power outage. Goddammit._

Trai slowly got up. "Thank you, Dr. Montgomery… if I have any questions, can I call?"

"Of course," Montgomery said with a nod. "I'll give you my number. I'd like you to come in about four weeks from now; we'll check on the fetal heartbeat and do a general checkup. Sound good?"

Both Mark and Trai nodded and left the office, Trai scheduling another appointment at the desk before they left.

Mark cleared his throat and said quietly, "Trai, I'm… this is my fault…"

Trai held up her hand. "No one's fault. We got caught up in the moment, I guess. Didn't occur to either of us."

"Everything will be fine," Mark said softly. "It'll all be fine."

"I guess," Trai said quietly. "What... whatever you say..."

* * *

_"There's three feet of snow on the ground, it's fucking _freezing_, I can't feel my fingers and—Mark, is the power out?"_

_"You'd be correct. Hey." Mark kissed Trai as she pulled off the leather gloves that had done nothing to keep the cold from her skin. Trai wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, dropping her shopping bags._

_"Was your shopping successful?" Mark asked as they broke apart._

_"Yes, it was, and if my parents call and ask, yeah, I _totally_ did the shopping last week, and no, you and I are not engaged. I haven't told them yet."_

_"Well, technically we've only been engaged since this morning, so you can give it some time."_

_Trai sat down on the couch after hanging up her coat and stripping off her boots and socks. She was dressed comfortably in a shirt and heavy sweatpants. Mark went back to lighting candles to bring some light to the pitch-dark loft._

_It was January 1__st__, around eleven o'clock in the evening. Mark had proposed to Trai early that morning, after they came home from watching the Ball drop. She'd accepted, happily, and they were finally back to normal after the miscarriage._

_After he was done lighting the candles, Mark settled down next to Trai and pulled her to him. "How are you?"_

_"I'm wonderful," Trai said softly, smiling. "Fantastic. I'm… God, Mark, I'm your fiancée. I couldn't be happier."_

_Mark smiled and let her snuggle into him. "Cold?"_

_"No shit, Sherlock. I still can't feel my fingers."_

_Mark brought them up to his lips, kissing them gently. "Better?"_

_"Little more," Trai said with a grin. Mark smiled, trailing kisses up her sleeve, gently laying her back onto the couch, slipping his hands up her shirt and cupping her breasts in his hands. "More than one way to keep warm," he murmured._

_"I like your way better," Trai said softly, and unzipped his jeans._

* * *

Mark passed Roger a beer as he came out onto the fire escape. "Hey, man," he said quietly. 

"Hey," Roger said as he sat down. "You guys okay?"

"I guess," Mark sighed. "God, this is my fault…"

"It's no one's fault, Mark. These things happen… I mean, Mimi and I didn't plan on having Lauren, but look at where we are now."

"No, Rog, it's my fault. I didn't think about protection. It didn't even cross my mind. We want to have kids, but not this soon! Not after… not after Grace," he said quietly. "We wanted to wait."

"You can't honestly tell me you're unhappy, Mark. I know how long you've wanted this."

Mark sighed. "I'm not unhappy. I love Trai, and I want kids. I _know _I want this. But… Trai… she's been through so much. I just… I hope she's not upset…"

"I'm sure she's not."

"You haven't seen her since she and I went to the clinic. She's quiet. She won't even say anything to me."

"Just give her time to let it sink in. Sleep it off," Roger suggested. "That's what I did for Mimi. She just needs to think."

Mark sighed and took another drink of his beer. "I can't even begin to think about this." He leaned his head back against the wall.

Completely knowing the feeling, Roger offered, "Try this—in eight months, you'll be a dad."

Mark closed his eyes and mulled it over. He'd thought about starting a family since Cindy had had kids, but had pretty much given up on it while he was with Maureen—she was too wild, at that point, to be a mother, and after they'd broken up he'd pretty much sworn to celibacy. When he'd found Trai, he'd been happy—unbelievably happy. Almost ten months after they started dating, she'd miscarried before she'd even told him she was pregnant, and it had almost torn them apart.

He wanted kids so badly, and the only person he wanted them with was Trai…

"I want this," he whispered. "I really do."

Roger squeezed his shoulder. "Knew you did," he said softly. "And I'm here for you, man. You and her."

Mark hugged his friend for a moment. "We'll need you," he assured him. "And I am so glad that you'll be around to be my kid's uncle."

Roger smiled. "Just like I'm glad you're Lauren's. Now," he said as he pulled away, "go talk to Trai."

* * *

Trai was lying in her bedroom, the room Mark had kept for her just in case she didn't want to sleep in the same bed with him some nights. She went in there when she needed time alone—usually when she was upset, or when she was missing Danny, her brother. Right now, she needed to think. 

She slowly ran her hands down her body, letting them rest on her stomach. Since the night before, she'd been trying to wrap her mind around the fact that there was a life growing inside her. She'd struggled with the same thing right before the miscarriage, but this was different. She and Mark had been so afraid that they wouldn't be able to conceive, that somehow something had gone wrong. And now… now they were having a baby.

"I want this," she whispered to herself. "Why don't I feel happy?"

There was a soft knock on the door. "Trai?" Mark called softly.

"Door's open," Trai called back.

Mark opened the door and came in quietly, shutting the door behind him and sitting down on the bed next to her. "How you feeling?" he asked gently, smoothing her hair.

"Okay," Trai sighed. "Tired. A little sick."

"That's normal," Mark said softly. "I think it'll end in a month or so."

Trai laid her head in his lap. "This scares me so much," she admitted quietly. "It terrifies me, and I can't believe that we're having a baby, but… God, Mark… I want this," she whispered. "I want this."

Mark put his hands over hers, which were still resting on her stomach. "I do too," he whispered. "So much… Trai, I love you. I love you more than anything. And I love our baby," he whispered.

Trai sat up and let him pull her close. He kissed her softly, holding her face in his hands. "You mean everything to me," he whispered, stroking her cheek. "I promise you that we're together in this. I promise you, Trai."

Trai nodded and buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. "God, I love you," she whispered.

Mark smoothed her hair, holding her close to his body. "I love you too," he whispered into her ear. "I love you too."

"Can I sleep in our room tonight?" Trai asked quietly. "With you? I just… I came in here to calm down."

Mark nodded. "Of course," he said gently, helping her up and leading her to their bedroom. She got under the covers and curled up next to him, closing her eyes, fatigued due to the pregnancy and somewhat worn out due to the day they'd had. Mark wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head before they both fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N- Please, everyone, read and review, and if you haven't read the original, please do so! If you want to be notified when I come up with a new chapter, please put me on alert!**

**Thank you all so much!**

**- Sally.**


	2. Scared Of Myself

**A/N- Thirteen reviews?! Awesome. I'm really psyched, guys! THANKS!!**

"_**May I always be on my way to you/May I never have to meet the man I'd be alone/I'm your criminal and you're my only friend/May I always be on my way to you/Cause I'm scared, scared of myself/Oh, I'm scared, scared of myself/Oh, I'm scared, scared of myself without you."**_

**- "Scared Of Myself"  
Simon Dawes  
**

* * *

Chapter Two  
Scared Of Myself

Trai came out the next morning looking generally okay, if a little disheveled, since she'd been awake barely ten minutes. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hey." Mark kissed her gently. "You want coffee?"

"Ugh. I can't stomach food this early, let alone coffee. Plus I don't think that's good for the baby." She smiled a bit. "I'm gonna have to get used to saying that."

"We all are," Mark chuckled, then confessed, "Has it not really struck you yet? It feels that way to me…"

"Don't worry, I'm in the same boat you are. I give it another couple days before I wake up and think, _Shit, I'm really pregnant_," she laughed.

Mark handed her a glass of water so she could swallow her vitamins. "Do you think we should call the others? Maureen and Joanne, Benny and Collins?"

Trai nodded. "I think they'd like to know, yeah. And much as I hate to say this—what about our families?"

"I think I'm only telling my mom."

"Yeah, I'm probably going to tell Angie first. We might have to make a pilgrimage to Bay Shore in the next week or two."

Mark nodded. "Okay. You sure your parents won't want to kill me?"

"Nah. Mom loves you, and Dad's not the type to break out a shotgun upon hearing his only daughter is pregnant," Trai teased. "You'll be fine." She winced a little and pressed her hand to her stomach. "Mmm… gimme a second…"

She disappeared into the bathroom, feeling sick. Concerned, Mark followed her. "Everything all right?"

"I just feel sick," Trai sighed. "Really sick."

Mark wet a washcloth and gently wiped the sweat from her face. "Need me to do anything?"

Trai eased down onto the floor and shook her head. "No," she said weakly. "Look, this isn't going to be pretty. You can leave if you want; I'm fine."

"You're not fine. I'm staying," Mark said firmly.

Trai closed her eyes and rested her head against the sink. "This sucks. It really does."

"I know, baby," Mark said softly. He sat next to her, rubbing her shoulder. "I know." After a moment he paused. "Wait here."

Trying to remember what his mother had done for Cindy, he went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, finding a lemon he'd had around from the last time Trai had cooked for him—she loved to cook, and she wasn't that bad at it, either. He sliced the lemon in half and carried the halves back to the bathroom.

He handed one of them to her and told her, "Inhale."

Trai breathed in the scent of the lemon a little hesitantly, looking at him like he was a madman. Still, the nausea eased the slightest bit, and she felt better after ten minutes or so. She sighed and said tiredly, "Thanks, Mark."

"No problem." Mark kissed her cheek. "You want to lay down on the couch, watch TV? I can get you crackers or something; they might help your stomach."

Trai gave him a weak smile. "That'd be great, honey. Thank you. Can you help me up?"

Mark took her arm and helped her stand, leading her to the living room, where she lay down and rested her head on the arm of the couch. Mark grabbed her a blanket, draping it over her and making sure she was settled before he disappeared into the kitchen to get her some crackers and ginger ale.

Trai turned on the TV and flipped channels, stopping momentarily on a kids' channel showing cartoons. Her mind drifted, and she again started to wonder and worry about the baby—would everything really be all right? With their financial situation and the state of the loft, how would she and Mark possibly raise a baby?

Would she even be a good mother?

That was what worried her most of all. Even when she'd learned she was pregnant with Grace, she'd worried that if they did indeed keep the baby, she wouldn't be a good mother. Trai had never had the highest opinion of herself, and even having Mark had not changed that—there was a nagging voice in the back of her head telling her she'd be horrible.

Mark set a plate of crackers on the table with a can of ginger ale, startling her out of her thoughts. He glanced at the TV. "Do you normally watch _Rugrats_?"

Trai raised an eyebrow. "Honey, the fact that you even know this show scares me."

"Cindy has kids!" Mark said, defensively. "She needed me to sit for Jake a few years ago… you have no idea how hard it is to get him to be quiet."

"I liked him," Trai shrugged, having met him at the disastrous Passover ten months before. Jacob, who almost never liked adults, had liked her very much, and they'd played games for a while.

"You don't have to be locked in a house with him for six hours," Mark said, pointedly. He settled into a chair by the couch, smoothing her hair absently as she nibbled a bit at a cracker. Despite that it was a kids' show, they watched anyway, and actually found themselves entertained—Tommy and Angelica were wreaking havoc in the office of Angelica's mother.

Mark glanced away from the TV for a moment to give Trai a smile. "Let's hope our baby's not like that, huh?"

"Yeah," Trai chuckled. She reached out and laced her fingers through his. "Feels weird to say that… 'our baby'…"

"Yeah, it does," Mark agreed. "But, you know I'm happy, right?"

"I know," Trai said softly, rolling over and pulling herself up onto her elbows to kiss him. "There's no one else I would rather do this with."

After a little while she said, "I think I should look for a job… maybe waitressing or something…"

"Are you sure you can handle being on your feet that much?" Mark asked, concerned. He knew that Trai usually found it difficult to stay still, so waitressing would be right up her alley, but he also knew that the amount of stress on her body the last time had been what led to the miscarriage.

Trai nodded. "I think I'll be able to, yeah. For a few months, at least."

"Still, I don't want you to be the only one working. I'll find something," Mark promised. "Maybe Collins could help me out, find me a tech job at NYU or something."

"That'd be good," Trai said encouragingly. "You wouldn't have to stop filming."

Mark nodded. "Though I can't say that's been working out recently. You know it's a sad thing when I've been working on my documentary since… well, since the night I met you. Fourteen months."

Trai shrugged. "Sometimes you hit a block; happens to me too. Luckily Lizzy Bennet, Mr. Darcy, and I have been getting along well." She was referring to her latest book, a sequel to _Pride and Prejudice,_ which she'd called _Mr. & Mrs. Darcy._ While her other works were erotic in nature, this one was very much a Regency, with almost no sex at all. Therefore, Trai had allowed Mark to read it, or the first draft at least, and he'd very much liked it.

Mark kissed her forehead. "I'll keep hacking away at it. You've helped a lot," he smiled, "for inspiration."

"Good," Trai smiled softly. Then, "You want to call Maureen and Joanne and everyone today?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good. I think Davey and Julia are visiting today, too, so maybe they can come." He was referring to the birth parents of Rachel, the baby Maureen and Joanne had adopted—they'd wanted to keep them involved in Rachel's upbringing.

"Sounds great. I'm going to sleep for a bit, okay?"

"No problem." Mark kissed her again and then took the phone into the kitchen to call Maureen and Joanne.

* * *

"It's so weird how much she looks like you," Julia remarked to Maureen as she held Rachel on her hip. "Kind of funny, actually." 

Maureen smiled and smoothed out Rachel's dark hair. "Joanne says I don't need another ego boost. But hey, at least she'll be beautiful," she joked, fluffing her dark curls.

The phone rang and Davey, Julia's boyfriend, hopped up to get it—Joanne was out getting baby supplies. "Hello?" He listened for a moment, then said, "Sure, she's right here, Mr. Cohen."

He handed the phone to Maureen. "Mark."

"For the last time, call him that," Maureen admonished lightly before taking the phone and saying brightly, "Hey, Mark!"

"Have I ever mentioned how old being called 'Mr. Cohen' makes me feel?" Mark said on the other end of the line.

"Yes. Many times. Hello to you too, Mark; I'm fine, thank you for asking."

Mark chuckled. "Sorry, Mo. How're Rach and Joanne?"

"Both doing wonderfully. Davey and Julia too. So, why'd you call? Haven't heard from you in a week or two."

"Well, actually, Trai and I have some news. We wanted you and Joanne to come to the loft tonight; tell Davey and Julia they're welcome to come too."

"Oh, sure, then. Sounds great. Everything all right?"

"Everything's fine." She could hear the smile in Mark's voice. "We're all great. Listen, I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Mark."

"Bye, Mo." Mark hung up.

* * *

"Hey, guys!" Trai swung open the door for Roger, Mimi, and Lauren that evening. The fatigue and nausea of the morning had dissipated, and she felt a lot better. Still, Roger laughed at her slightly hyper mannerisms and wrapped her in a one-armed hug. "Mark in the kitchen?" 

"Yup, he's making snacks for everyone," Trai explained. Roger smiled at her and then disappeared into the kitchen to find Mark.

Trai smiled at Lauren, who was held in Mimi's arms. "Hey, princess!" she cooed. Since Lauren's birth in July, Trai had become really close to her, helping Mimi and Roger take care of her fairly often, stopping only when the miscarriage had happened and then when she'd left for two months. Roger and Mimi considered her an aunt, and Trai loved Lauren dearly.

"You want to hold her?" Mimi smiled. "Might as well practice now, huh?"

"Yeah," Trai laughed, gently taking Lauren into her arms. "She's so beautiful, Meems. I can't say that enough."

"Isn't she?" Mimi played with Lauren's hands. "It's so amazing, Trai, really. You and Mark will love it."

"I know." Trai crossed her legs under her and settled Lauren on her lap. "I really… _really_ hope everything turns out okay," she said quietly.

Mimi squeezed her shoulder. "It'll be fine," she said softly. "You know it will."

Trai glanced away. "I just… I feel like…"

She was cut off by the entrance of Maureen, Joanne, Rachel, Julia, and Davey. Julia and Davey came to gatherings every so often; Julia, Trai, and Mimi had gotten friendly while she had been considering Maureen and Joanne to adopt Rachel. Julia had barely seen Trai since her return, and so smiled and hugged her. "Trai. How're you doing?"

"I'm fine," Trai smiled as Maureen, Joanne, and Davey went to greet Mark, Joanne holding Rachel in her arms. "I'm wonderful, actually."

"That's so great." Julia sat down on the arm of the couch. She'd known Trai was upset about the miscarriage; unfortunately Rachel's birth had happened only a few days afterwards, and Trai had come to the hospital with the rest of the group, looking utterly heartbroken and out-of-place. Julia had felt guilty, and had been shocked to hear that Trai had run away. "Have you and Mark been planning the wedding?"

"We want to wait a little bit," Trai explained. "We're both on a job hunt. But, I just finished the first draft of my new book, so that's definitely something."

Julia grinned. "What's this one about?" She'd read Trai's two other novels while laid up after having Rachel.

"Say hello to the married life of Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet," Trai chuckled, motioning to the formidable stack of typewritten pages held together by a binder clip that was lying on the coffee table. "Took me ages to do all the research and read back through every Jane Austen novel ever written to get the feel of it, but I think I've done all right."

"I was starting to worry that I wouldn't measure up to Mr. Darcy," Mark added as he came out to the living room and kissed the top of Trai's head. "Hi, Julia." He greeted Julia with a smile and glanced out into the hallway as he heard voices—Benny and Collins had arrived. Surprisingly, after Angel's death and Benny's divorce from Allison, Benny and Collins had become good friends, usually bonding over the plight of the single New Yorker—something Mark was grateful not to worry about anymore.

"Long time, no see, guys," Mark grinned as Collins embraced him, as usual carrying a bottle of Stoli. Benny and Mark shook hands while Collins went to pour everyone the Stoli; Mark moved everyone into the living room as soon as he'd come back.

Collins started to hand Trai a cup, but she waved a hand with a smile. "Not tonight. Thanks."

Maureen raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mark. "Mark, is…?"

She didn't finish, for Mark had grinned widely and put an arm around his fiancée. "We have an announcement," he smiled, "and you all might've figured, but… Trai and I are going to have a baby."

The response was ecstatic. Mark was heartily clapped on the back by Benny and Collins; the girls all squealed with happiness and started to bombard Trai with questions. Laughing, grinning, Trai held up her hands. "One at a time, please!"

"How long have you known?" was Maureen's.

"Since two nights ago," Trai explained. "We went to the doctor yesterday morning to be sure… and as it turns out, I am," she smiled even wider.

"There's no way you've found this out without having some kind of freak out," Collins chuckled as he glanced at Mark. His good friend did not have the strongest stomach—how Mark would survive in a delivery room was certainly an interesting thought.

Mark groaned. "Can we not think about that, please?"

"Seven and a half months from now, darling, you'd better be conscious in the delivery room." Trai handed Lauren to Mimi and got up, coming behind Mark and wrapping her arms around his waist, kissing a cheek. "Do me a favor, boys. Take him out for a drink or something?"

"I'm fine," Mark protested, but Benny, Roger, and Collins already quite enjoyed this idea. "Trai, I don't—"

"You do," Trai said firmly. "You've been taking care of me all morning and for the last few days. Now go. Spend time with your friends. I'll see you later, love."

Mark sighed and kissed her before finally submitting to being dragged out the door; Davey followed with a good-bye to Julia, telling her he had a paper to write. Trai smiled and shut the door behind him, settling back on the couch.

"So, excited?" Joanne asked her.

Trai nodded. "Very much. I'm… more prepared… this time around."

Julia squeezed her shoulder. "Well, just remember, you have all of us. And I'm sure Mimi and I can answer any questions or something."

"Yeah, that might help. Mark knows some stuff, but he's not exactly an authority. Plus, I don't want to flood poor Dr. Montgomery with questions."

"You'll be a great mom, Trai," Maureen said softly, patting her hand.

Trai sighed. "That's… that's what I'm scared of, really. I don't… even last time, I kept feeling like… like I won't be a good mother. That since I… I lost the baby last time, it'll happen again," she said quietly.

"Now, you know that you'll be a good mom," Mimi said sternly. "You're wonderful with Lauren and Rachel—they love you. You'll be a great mom, and Mark will be a great father—you guys are perfect for each other, and for the baby."

Trai breathed out slowly. "You really think so?"

"I really do," Mimi confirmed gently. "Don't even worry about it."

* * *

"Well, well." Isabella, the bartender at the Life, smiled a little as Roger, Benny, and Collins escorted Mark inside. "Haven't seen any of you in a while. What brings ya here?" 

"Cohen here's gonna be a father," Roger announced, grinning as Mark blushed furiously.

"Really?" Isabella smiled widely. "Oh, God, Mark, I'm so happy for you. That's incredible." She reached under the bar for a glass and mixed a rum and Coke. "On the house."

"Thanks," Mark smiled a little and took the drink, sipping absently.

"When's your girlfriend due?"

"She's my fiancée, actually, and she's due in early September. We only found out a couple days ago, but we're already pretty excited," he smiled. "Only thing I'm nervous about is the actual birth."

"She's the one who should be nervous, not you," Isabella laughed. "Excuse me for saying so, but they'll probably have to drug _you_ instead of _her_!"

"Knew there was a reason I liked you, Iz," Roger laughed.

"Thank ya much, darlin'. I got other customers, but if you need me, holler." Isabella winked at Mark and then walked over to another customer.

Mark took another sip of his drink and regarded the bar steadily. "I don't think I'll be a good father," he confessed after a few minutes.

"Why's that?" Benny asked, leaning against the bar.

"I… I don't know. I mean, look at me—I'm twenty-eight, I make films no one bothers to go see, I don't have a job… my mom was right; I've amounted to nothing. I love Trai, I really do, and I love the baby… I just think sometimes that they deserve someone better."

"From the little I know of her, Mark, there's no one better for her than you," Collins told him. "I've seen you two together—you're great with her. And maybe you don't have much right now, but that's not to say that won't change—I mean, you've got a fiancée and a kid on the way. You can't tell me that's not enough for you."

"I know that this freaks you out," Roger added, "and I can understand why; I had the same reaction. But you've wanted this for years, Mark. And you'll definitely be good at it—I've seen you with Lauren."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Now drink."

* * *

Mark came home at around 11:30, a little buzzed but not drunk. Trai was lying awake in bed, looking a little tired but still focusing all her attention on _Wuthering Heights_, the latest in her "let's reread books I read in high school" project. 

"Hey, baby." Mark sat on the bed and kissed her cheek. "How you feeling?"

"Okay. Just wanted to stay up to make sure you got home okay. Did you have fun?"

"It was nice. Isabella says congratulations, by the way."

Trai smiled. "I liked her; I'll have to say hi." Mark and Trai had gone to the Life frequently for dates; Isabella knew them well. "Ask about a job or something."

Mark pulled off his shirt and jeans and folded them into the hamper, getting under the covers in his boxers and pulling Trai close. She set down her book and rested her head on his chest. "You think I'll be a good dad?" Mark asked quietly.

Trai looked up at him. "Of course I do. Why would you think you wouldn't?"

"Just… I've been doubting myself ever since you found out. You know me… I worry."

"You'll be wonderful, Mark, I'm sure of it. Me as a mom, I'm not too sure about, but I know _you'll_ be amazing."

"Hold on; how can you think you won't be a good mom? You're great with kids, Trai, really. I have _so _much faith in you—you're going to be amazing."

Trai smiled softly. "Why do I have the feeling we'll be running in circles about this for months?"

"Because you know I won't let you say that about yourself."

"Well, I won't let you say anything about _your_self either." Trai nuzzled his cheek. "Do me a favor, even if I look disgusting in the next few months, kindly don't mention it?"

"You'll look beautiful," Mark assured her. "Trust me. I know."

"Keep deluding yourself if you wish." She yawned tiredly. "I need sleep, love."

Mark reached over and turned out the light. "Night," he murmured softly. "I love you."

"Love you too, honey. Good night."

* * *

**A/N- Like I said before, super psyched about all the reviews! Keep 'em coming; I'll be happy, haha.**

**For anyone who remembers that Rugrats episode, two points, haha! I actually looked up the date it aired and everything; it was right around the date I have down for this chapter :) I grew up with that cartoon, man!**

**Sundrynotes- Haha, thanks for the enthusiasm :) Well, everything will work out okay, but you know me… I like some drama, so it might take a while.**

**Srgirl6889- Yup, I had the first chapter written for months, haha! And, uh… oh, dammit, you'll see eventually!!**

**LifeIsTooQuick- Oh yes, in my plans so far the boho kids have some interesting romantic entanglements (I'm planning on writing a story about the kids if there's enough interest).**

**Majorlymusicalmarlee- Yay, thanks:) It might. For the most part it'll be happy, but there will be some more serious drama later on.**

**Reflectionette- Thank you!**

**Tina101- Much as I love Walt (aka LA Boy), I couldn't bear do that to Mark and Trai. And yep, I've done the same—I was writing a story of mine once, having just come off of reading a book, and I started writing those characters' names only to go, "… Oh yeah. Those aren't mine!"**

**Grapetheape- Aww, thank you! And yes, there will be happiness. Mostly.**

**Scififreakmi- I will say that Trai won't miscarry this time, but I am not promising that there will not be drama. That would be too simple. But anyway, it'll be happy for a while :)**

**Readerfreak10- There will be drama, but I wouldn't dare separate them again. Then I'd be lynched for sure! –wink-**

**NotEASYbeingGREEN- Haha, have I mentioned how much I love you? Well, here's the update!**

**Diva Actress- Oh, I do not dawdle, haha! I jump in with both feet when it comes to my stories. Often not knowing where the hell I'm going with them:)**

**0xRENTxOzxHeadx0- I give great credit to whoever read 25 chapters as fast as you apparently did, haha! Thank you!!**

**Meagan Shierling- Almost done with the drafting; it's coming along :) Thank you!**

**Thank you so much for everyone who's already favorited this, and to everyone who added **_**Love For Rent **_**to their favorites after Chapter Twenty-Four. You guys are the best!**

**Next update soon. Thank you, my loves!**

**- Sally.**


	3. Stand By Me

"_**When the night has come and the **__**land**__** is dark/And the moon is the only light we'll see/No, I won't be afraid/Oh, I won't be afraid/Just as long as you stand, stand by me/So, darling, darling/Stand by me…"**_

**- "Stand By Me"  
****Ben E. King**

* * *

Chapter Three  
Stand By Me

"I've realized," Trai remarked, in early March, coming into the living room with _Wuthering Heights_ in hand, "why I didn't quite like this one when I first read it." She'd had to abandon the book for a week or so due to the flurry of job interviews she'd done and last-minute revisions to the _Darcy_ draft, but she'd dove straight back in with her usual rapid pace two nights before.

"Why's that?" Mark asked as she stretched out on the couch, laying her head in his lap. He ran his hands down her body, letting them rest on her belly.

"Catherine, the female lead? Whiny, ungrateful _bitch_! Plus, she dies after childbirth. I forgot that detail. Should there ever be a reading list for the mom-to-be, this one would not be on it."

"Excellent choice of bedtime reading, darling," Mark chuckled. "Did you sleep all right last night?" She'd been up all night for the past few nights working.

"Yep. I actually feel pretty good today. Thank God." She'd had to stay down all yesterday due to nausea.

"So, what's on the agenda?"

"Well, I start work at the Life on Monday. Part-time, but I might ask for—"

"Full is too much stress," Mark said firmly. "Dr. Montgomery said so. Don't risk it, Trai, please. I don't want you or the baby to be hurt."

"Okay, fine, I promise. Well, today I need to visit Morrie, pick up the edits he did on the draft. Pray for me."

"You know he loved it. It was great. Besides, you're too amazing."

"Stop flattering me," Trai giggled. "I'm already engaged to you and having your baby; what more do you want?"

"Can't I compliment you without wanting something once in a while?" Mark teased, leaning down to kiss her, then kissing her stomach softly. "How long d'you think it'll be before you start showing?"

"Couple weeks yet. Let us hope it takes a while."

"I keep telling you, you'll—"

"—be beautiful, I know. Doesn't mean I believe it, love." She sat up and kissed him. "I need to go get dressed, okay?"

"Okay. Say hi to Morrie for me. Oh, and does he know you're pregnant?"

"No," Trai smiled. "Wanted to tell him after he read the draft. He'll be thrilled. See ya later okay?"

"Okay."

Trai headed into the bedroom to change.

* * *

"_Bubie!"_

Trai Buscemi was one of Morrie Stein's favorite clients, one of the quirkiest and cutest young women he'd ever known. Even in a pair of jeans and a Dartmouth t-shirt, her blond hair swept up into a bun, she looked great, and Morrie enfolded her into an embrace.

Pulling away, he held her at arm's length to look at her. "Someone's happy."

"Very much so. Now, make me an even happier girl and tell me how you liked my draft."

"Loved it, _bubie_, as always. Let us hope your own married life will be as ideal," he teased lightly. "And how is the nice Jewish boy?"

"_Mark_ is doing beautifully, thanks." Morrie, like her own father, had been very excited to learn she had met someone Jewish.

"Will this one be dedicated to him, too?" Morrie teased. Her last dedication—_To Mark. You are my everything.—_had been slightly saccharine, and he loved to call her on it.

"No, actually, this one will go out to someone else very special to me."

"And who might that be?"

Trai smiled and said softly, "The baby."

Morrie was silent for a long moment. _"Bubie…_ are you _pregnant_?!"

"I am," Trai grinned. "Eight weeks, coming up on nine."

"Oh, Trai, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you!" Morrie pulled her into another hug. "Now, Sadie and Michael will definitely want to know," he told her, referring to his wife and son. "And you're too thin, _bubie_; I can guarantee you Sadie will want you over for dinner."

"I'd love to, actually; I'd like for you guys to meet Mark."

"Then we'll set it up. Oh, and tell the romance editors and writers; they gather by the water cooler. I think there was a department bet going on about when you were going to have kids since you came here… or whether you were going to end up a spinster… can't remember which…"

"_Morrie!"_

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! They'll be happy for you. Well, I have someone else coming in a few minutes, so I need you to scoot, but I definitely be in touch about dinner. Keep up the good work, okay? And congratulations."

"Thanks, Morrie." Trai kissed her agent/editor's cheek and left.

* * *

Two days later, on Friday, it was time to meet Angie for their weekly coffee. Trai had wanted to break the news in person, but hadn't gotten a chance—Angie had been on auditions for the past few weeks. 

Angie was one of her closest friends, despite their differences. While Trai was laid back and reserved, Angie was more of a wild child. She'd dated a few guys and girls—she was bisexual—in college, while Trai had stuck with only two, Ethan and Jason. Still, Angie had also fallen for her brother Danny, and they'd stayed in a secret relationship until his death from HIV the year previously.

Trai got to the coffeehouse at eleven o'clock, as always, giving Betsy, their normal waitress, a bright smile and settling down onto the couch with a copy of _Mansfield Park_ by Jane Austen as she waited for her friend to arrive.

"Always with the Jane Austen!" she heard a few minutes later, looking up to see Angie standing a few feet away, putting her coat on the coat rack. "You're ruining your expectations for men, darling; poor Mark must have a lot to live up to."

"Nah, he's perfect," Trai smiled, getting up and hugging her friend. "Long time, no see, Ang."

"I know. Sorry. God, I have no auditions and out of nowhere Stella bombards me with about fifteen in the past two weeks."

"Any luck?"

"No callbacks as of yet, but I'm always hoping, you know me."

"Hey, girls." Betsy smiled as she came to take their order. "The usual?"

Angie started to nod, but Trai told her, "Water would be fine for me."

Betsy cocked her head in curiosity, but nodded and went to get the coffee and water. Angie turned to her friend. "You're not normally one to turn down caffeine; everything all right?"

Trai grinned and shook her head. "I'm fine. I'm wonderful. I'm… Angie, I'm pregnant."

"Oh my God!" Angie smiled widely and pulled her friend into a tight hug, pulling away and asking her, "When did you find out? Why didn't you call me?"

"Two weeks ago, and I wanted to let you know in person. Excited?"

"Well, yeah! This is great news, Trai, seriously. How did Mark take it?"

"Well, it was a bit of a shock for both of us… with last year and all. But I think we're actually doing okay. He's been great throughout all this. Came home last night and he was reading _What To Expect When You're Expecting_," she laughed. "And that's saying a lot; I think the illustrations freaked him out a tad bit."

"Oh, c'mon, the word 'tampon' freaks the guy out; you're surprised?" Angie laughed as Betsy came back with their drinks and congratulated Trai. "But it's really great that he's doing all that for you. I imagine you're giving him hell for it." She knew Trai was very far from co-dependent.

"Well, I try to do what I can by myself, if he'll let me. But I'm learning to relent a little; he's extremely stubborn when it comes to these things."

They talked for a little bit about the plans for the wedding and for the baby, before finally Angie said, "I, um… I wanted to ask you something. Advice, I guess."

Trai set down her glass. "Yeah, sure. Shoot."

Angie raked her fingers through her long red hair. "Do you remember a friend of Danny's named Nick Fannon?"

Trai nodded. "Yeah, I met him a couple times when I went to visit Danny in Harvard."

"Well, I ran into him the other day at the grocery store. He lives here now. He recognized me and we started talking. He'd heard about Danny, and he… he asked me out."

Trai knew Angie had to be torn. Angie had been completely in love with Danny, and she knew that she and her family were the only ones who even knew Danny and Angie had been involved, and that had only come out after Danny's death. But she also knew that Nick was a nice guy, and would understand if Angie told him that she was still grieving and wanted to take things slower.

"It's been fourteen months, honey," Trai said softly, squeezing Angie's knee. "You don't need my permission. I know you loved Danny, but I also know that he'd want you to move on. And he and Nick were great friends—I'm sure there's no one else he would rather have you go out with."

Angie breathed out a shuddery sigh. "Should I tell him we were involved?"

"I would, if I were you. Tell him that you want to take things slower. But don't be afraid to get involved with him, Angie. I think you should move on."

"In a way, I guess… I guess it would be a relief. I mean, Danny and I… it was complicated. There was always a risk, and we were hiding the relationship from everyone." Angie had almost become infected with HIV, having had a scare the year before. She'd gone back for testing every month since then, and the doctor had finally concluded the month before that she was all right. Still, it had been nerve-wracking.

Trai nodded. "It'll be out in the open, and there wouldn't be that risk. I'd say just come clean with Nick, make sure he knows you were with Danny. And if he takes it okay, then go for it, honey."

"You really think I should?"

"I really do," Trai said softly. "Just give it a shot. If you're not ready, then wait. That's what I would've done if things hadn't worked out with Mark at first."

Angie smiled weakly. "Guess I should hope to be as lucky as you two, huh?"

"Yeah," Trai said softly. "I hope it works out for you guys. I really do."

* * *

Mark stared at the phone for a long while. He wanted his mother to know, really. It was his sister and father he was worried about. 

The last time he and Trai had met with Samuel and Cindy had not been pretty. At the time, Trai had been pregnant, though neither of them had known that, and Mark knew that the stress of the meeting had probably been one of the things leading to Trai miscarrying. Samuel had said a lot of things that day and in the past that had hurt Trai, and he didn't accept her as part of the family. Cindy was just as bad.

He'd never had the greatest relationship with his parents, but since he'd gotten together with Trai, his mother was trying, at least. His dropping out of Brown almost eight years before had put a lot of strain on their relationship, but once she'd grudgingly accepted the fact that he wasn't going back and that he was friends with people with HIV, she'd tried to be at least supportive.

Finally, Mark sighed and picked up the phone. His mother at least had the right to know that she was going to have a grandson or a granddaughter. Sure, she loved Cindy's kids, but she'd always hoped Mark would have children, too—hearing about the miscarriage had hurt.

Luckily, his mother picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Mom." Mark breathed out slowly. "It's me."

"Oh, hi, honey! You haven't called in a while. How are you?"

"I'm good." Mark smiled weakly, which she couldn't see. "I'm doing really good, actually."

"Well, I'd hope so. You have a beautiful woman for your fiancée," Jane smiled as well. "How is Trai doing, by the way?"

"Well, she's… the reason I called is because…" How to phrase this? He paused and finally just said it straight out. "She's pregnant."

"Really? Oh, honey, that's great! Are you excited?"

"Yeah," Mark said, his smile a little stronger. "A little scared, too. But mostly we're really looking forward to everything."

"We'll have to get together sometime soon," Jane assured him. "Tell Trai congratulations. I'll… do you want me to tell your father and your sister?"

"No," Mark said quickly. "No. I don't want them to know… what Dad said last time really got to her," he said quietly. "I don't think… I know you might hate me for this, Mom, but I don't think they deserve to know."

"I can see that," Jane nodded. "And if you don't want your father or your sister to see Trai, I will support you on that. Trai doesn't need that kind of stress—you don't, either. I won't tell them."

"Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome. And… I'm happy for you and Trai, Mark, really. I know you both must be scared. But I've said it before, and I'll say it again… you'll make a wonderful father."

"Again, Mom, thanks… that means a lot to me."

"I'll let you go now." She smiled softly. "I love you, Mark."

"I love you, too, Mom. Bye."

* * *

Instead of alternating weekly, as per usual, Trai and Mark did the grocery shopping together. They'd started doing more things together since they'd learned the news, just loving the opportunity to spend time with each other. They started scouting out baby supplies, made plans to go shopping for a crib, everything they could possibly think of. As they unpacked the groceries, Mark looked over at Trai. 

"You want to go get something to eat? We haven't gone out for dinner in a while."

Trai glanced up at him and brushed her hair back from where it had fallen over her face. "Yeah, sure, sounds good. Would you mind if we just went to a diner or something, got sandwiches? My stomach's a little iffy right now."

"No problem." Mark let her finish unpacking and then wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing her and leading her out of the loft, shutting the door behind them and leading her down the stairs. "You look great today, by the way."

Trai smiled a little. "Thanks. But I'm really not in anything special." She was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled up into a ponytail.

"Doesn't matter. You still look great. You look… _happy_. You've been smiling a lot more," he added, pulling her ponytail lightly, playfully. Trai caught his hand with a grin. "Do that one more time and I kill you," she said sweetly.

Mark laughed and pushed open the door to the diner and led her inside. They sat at the counter and glanced over the menu. "Feeling a little better?" Mark asked her.

"All right. The fresh air helped a bit. I think I'll stick with water, maybe a salami sandwich."

"Sounds good to me," Mark nodded, waving the waiter over and giving him their order. When the waiter had gone, Mark continued to prod. "You want me to do anything for you tonight?"

"Mark, really, I can take care of myself."

"Trai… you're pregnant… with my child. And I'm going to say to you what I've said before—you don't have to take care of yourself. Not the entire time."

"Okay," Trai said quietly. "I think I just need a hot bath."

"That, I can do. Anything else?"

"No. I can do the rest myself," Trai insisted. "I just want to relax a little bit."

Mark squeezed her shoulder. "I think you should. Feeling better about everything lately?"

"Little bit." The waiter came with their food and Trai excused herself to the ladies' room for a moment.

Her heart suddenly felt like it stopped when she found some blood on her panties. It was nothing—spotting, really—but the rush of fear she felt left her suddenly dizzy.

_Oh God. Oh God no._

She buttoned her jeans with shaking hands and then left the bathroom, finding the pay phone and fumbling in her purse for some quarters and the number Dr. Montgomery had given her. Her breathing was shaky as she dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"H—hi. Dr. Montgomery? This is Tracy Buscemi."

"Tracy, hi. Is everything okay?"

"I, um—I just—I found a little blood. Spotting. Is that—is that a sign of—?"

She couldn't say it. She didn't want to. She couldn't possibly lose another baby…

"It's perfectly normal," Dr. Montgomery assured her gently, hearing the fear in her voice. "It happens often in early pregnancy. You're fine, honey, you're just fine."

Trai breathed out a shaky breath. Her knees felt weak with relief. "It's normal?"

"Completely normal. Is there anything else you needed? Any concerns?"

"N—no. Thank you, Dr. Montgomery," she said shakily. "Really."

"No problem, honey. Call if you need anything."

"Okay…" Trai slowly hung up and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes and letting a few tears run down her cheeks, upset. She slowly recomposed herself and then wiped her eyes, going back to Mark and sitting down beside him, picking up half of the sandwich and biting into it.

Mark noticed she looked upset almost immediately. He put a hand on her back. "Trai?" he asked softly. "You were gone a long time. Everything all right?"

"I'm fine," Trai whispered, her voice weak. "I'm all right."

She finished about half of the sandwich and then asked if he wouldn't mind going home. Mark told her of course he didn't and asked the waiter for a bag, then led Trai outside and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked—she didn't look that steady on her feet.

When they got home, he ran a bath for her and then helped her into it after she'd undressed. He slowly sat on the floor by the bathtub and asked softly, "Baby, did something happen?"

Trai looked away. "I found some blood on my panties. It was only spotting, but I freaked out. I called the doctor and she told me it was normal, but I thought—God, Mark, for two minutes I thought—"

She couldn't finish. She didn't have to.

"Everything will be fine," Mark soothed. It hurt to see her so upset over this, to know that the miscarriage had frightened her into taking every little thing too seriously. He was scared, too, but it killed him to see her so stressed out and upset. "You'll be fine."

"I hope you're right," Trai whispered, leaning her head back against the tiled wall and closing her eyes. "I really do."

* * *

**A/N- Hello, my darlings! For now, I have a tentative drafted plan for this story, and I've actually been on a pretty good pace recently. Yippee! Haha.**

**Tina101- Yep, I always wanted Julia and Davey to be part of Rachel's life, and I figured, what better way to do that than incorporate them with the bohos :) Plus, a lot of you guys liked Julia in LFR, and I really enjoyed writing her, so I brought her back! I plan to include her and her parents more in one of the later chapters.**

**Srgirl6889- Thanks :) And yep, my story would be nothing without drama! There'll be plenty for Trai and Mark, some for MoJo, and some for Trai's friends too, who will come in the next couple of chapters.**

**Readerfreak10- Oh, I would never separate them again. Christ, I don't have the emotional strength for that, haha! Thank you :)**

**Scififreakmi- Yeah, I watched Rugrats **_**all**_** the time when I was a kid! And yup, there will be sadness in some of the later chapters. However, I do find the image of you flipping out at the computer screen because of my story quite entertaining, haha!**

**Mark's Maureen- Yeah, Steph? Not gonna happen.**

**Stephanie Pascal- Thank you very much for reading my story! I love new reviewers! Did you read the original, by any chance? I'm also very glad to hear that Trai is believable; I've worked hard to make her so. Thanks so much for the compliments. And yes, I **_**love**_** Cabaret. (Gee, as if my pen name and parts of LFR didn't make it obvious…)**

**NotEASYbeingGREEN- Haha, no problem, I got what you meant. And thank you very much. I have a lot of fun writing Mark/Trai. As you might have realized!!**

**Midnightpopcorn- Hmm… "amazingful"… -writes down new adjective- Haha. I've been reading **_**Wuthering Heights**_** for the summer. It's… not the most terribly interesting book in the world, but it is a nifty look at two people who are too passionate about each other. (I have **_**Twilight**_** in my books-to-read pile!) Most of the books I mention Trai reading are classic romances or paranormal, sort of like what would have influenced her to write.**

**0xRENTxOZxHeadx0- Thanks!**

**Diva Actress- Haha, you're completely right! I love that show… :) And yep, I was aiming for the self-doubt because of both their previous experience and because they both just have low self-esteem!**

**Thank you for the support and compliments, my lovelies! Have a great day!**

**- Sally.**


	4. Sam's Town

"_**Nobody ever had a dream round here/But I don't really mind and it's starting to get to me/Nobody ever pulls the seams round here/But I don't really mind and it's starting to get to me/I've got this energy beneath my feet/Like something underground's gonna come up and carry me/I've got this sentimental heart that beats/But I don't really mind and it's starting to get to me now…"**_

**- "Sam's Town"  
The Killers**

* * *

Chapter Four  
Sam's Town

"Trai," Mark said softly two weeks later, towards the middle of March. "Trai, wake up."

Trai murmured into her pillow, "What's the matter?" He could tell she was tired and felt bad, especially since it was one of her days off from work, but she still needed to get up.

"Your appointment's in about an hour and a half."

"Oh." Trai yawned and blinked, sitting up. "God, I'm tired," she sighed.

"I know." Mark kissed her cheek. "You need anything?"

"Just need to take a shower, do my hair, get dressed. I'm fine."

Mark knew that she would probably try to stall as long as possible. Trai hated doctors and hospitals, had a longstanding phobia of them. The two times she'd gotten a cold the year before and he'd insisted on her getting checked out, he'd had to drag her to the doctor.

As she got out of bed, he came to wrap his arms around her waist. "Nervous?"

"Little bit, but not too much. I think everything'll turn out fine," she said softly.

Mark had to smile—that was a lot more optimistic than she'd been in the last few weeks. "I'm sure. And hey, next month they can tell us the sex of the baby. Or do you want it to be a surprise?"

"Surprise, I think." She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his own waist and laying her head on his shoulder. "You think you want a boy or a girl?"

"I really don't know. I'd be pretty damn excited if it was a boy, but I wouldn't mind a girl, either. She would be pretty, like you," he murmured into her ear.

Trai smiled softly. "And I'm sure any son we might have would have his daddy's good looks."

Mark blushed. "Stop."

"Aww, it's true. You're so handsome." She traced a line down his cheek with her index finger. "You ready to see my family tonight?" They were going out to Bay Shore after the appointment to have dinner with Trai's parents and also with Micah and Erica, Trai's close childhood friends. It was a Friday, and they'd be staying over for the weekend.

"Yeah, I think so. I really liked your mom, and your dad wasn't so bad."

"I'm surprised he didn't threaten you."

"No, Micah had that covered."

"Oh, he's fine now; he likes you, I promise. Plus I'll neuter him if he does anything to you," she added, smiling sweetly.

"Good to know, and promise you won't ever do that to me?"

"I promise," Trai laughed. She kissed his cheek and then headed into the bathroom to shower.

* * *

Trai fidgeted nervously and absently toyed with the bottom of the paper gown. "When did they say the doctor would be in by?" she asked anxiously. Mark could tell she was getting really nervous. 

He took her hand and kissed it. "Couple more minutes. Calm down a little, okay?"

"Doctors freak me out, you _know_ that." She sighed. "I just want to go home."

"I know, honey. Here, come here." He got up and put an arm around her. "After this we'll go home, get packed, and then get on the train. Just a half hour more, okay?"

"Okay," Trai sighed, like a little girl. He squeezed her hand. "You've been so great about all this, baby, I'm so proud of you."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dr. Montgomery entered with a bright smile. "Morning, Tracy, Mark," she said. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm all right," Trai said with a hesitant smile. "Been better."

"Morning sickness is not fun, I know. But if it's any consolation at all, it'll probably have stopped in the next three weeks or so."

"No one happier to hear that than I am, trust me."

"Oh, I do." Dr. Montgomery smiled and looked over at Mark as she took Trai's blood pressure. "Holding up okay?"

Mark smiled. "As best I can."

"Well, you're here with her; that says a lot right there," Dr. Montgomery chuckled. "And your blood pressure is normal; that's good," she said with a smile at Trai. "Relaxing?"

"Trying to," Trai laughed. "I've just finished my novel and started a new job. So, yeah, no fun, but he helps a lot," she smiled over at Mark; he squeezed her hand.

"Always nice to have someone behind you," Dr. Montgomery smiled. "Well, I think you probably know by now what's coming, but I'll brief you quickly. You should start gaining weight in the next few months; you should gain at least thirty pounds."

Trai winced. "Really?"

"I know; not a happy prospect," Dr. Montgomery chuckled softly. "But, you're young; you'll very likely lose the weight fairly quickly after you give birth. You'll probably start feeling movement in a couple weeks. I know you called me about spotting; has there been anything else? Nosebleeds? Headaches?"

"Occasional headache, yeah," Trai nodded. "But, I think that's stress."

"Well, regardless, just try to take it easy in the coming months, especially for the last trimester or so. No working full-time, as I've told you before."

"Ha! See?" Mark interjected.

"I know, I know."

Dr. Montgomery smiled a little. "Full-time is a lot for your body to handle." She glanced at the clock. "Well, I know you've probably got places to go; I won't keep you much longer. I'll go check on the ultrasound machine and we'll listen to the baby's heartbeat. Okay?"

"Okay." Trai smiled. "Thank you, Doctor, really. You've helped a lot."

"Just doing my job. I'll be right back."

As soon as she'd left, Mark took Trai's hand as she lay back on the table. "See? Not bad, right?"

"No," Trai admitted. "I like her; she's really nice. Makes it a little easier." She laughed a little. "First OB-GYN I saw was _not_ a happy woman. It was in New Hampshire, when I went to college. You'd think with the medical school by Dartmouth they'd have had a lot of nice, pleasant doctors, but _noooo_. I get Dr. Naples. And her male assistant, who I could only _hope_ was gay!"

Mark laughed and smoothed her hair. "I love you," he said softly.

Trai smiled and sat up for a moment to kiss him. "I love you too."

Dr. Montgomery returned with the ultrasound machine, pulling it behind her. "Ta-da," she announced with a smile. She spread some of the gel on Trai's stomach after setting up the machine, gently touching the transducer to her skin once she was done. Trai wrapped her fingers around Mark's and held tight as the sound of the baby's heartbeat filled the room.

"Baby Cohen," Dr. Montgomery said softly, giving them a smile.

Trai sniffed and nodded, wiping away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. "Yeah," she whispered, the reality hitting for the first time. That the baby was okay. That… that she could go through with this. "Yeah."

* * *

Amazingly, Trai was able to sleep through the train ride to Bay Shore. Part of it was Mark's abrupt waking her that morning; part of it was that fatigue was also one of the things she'd been dealing with since learning she was pregnant. He'd gotten used to her occasional naps, and let her sleep in when she needed. Mark, himself, found it difficult to sleep on the train, and so busied himself by alternately looking at the window and watching Trai sleep. She'd laid her head on his shoulder and dozed off almost immediately. He absently stroked her palm with his thumb and listened to the soft inhale and exhale of her breathing. 

He knew she was going to be okay. She'd been so worried for the last month, so scared, that he'd worried that she would get too stressed out. But as much as she hated doctors, the appointment had done a lot to ease her fears, and his own as well. Even though she'd been assured that her spotting two weeks before had been normal, Mark had heard her crying that night when she'd thought he was asleep.

When they got close to the station, Mark gently squeezed Trai's arm to wake her. "Baby? We're here."

Trai blinked and nodded. "Can you hand me my sweatshirt?" she asked tiredly. He did and she pulled it on as they left the train, going down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. The air out here was cooler, something Trai had been prepared for, having grown up in Bay Shore.

As Mark held the door for her and helped her inside the cab she'd hailed, Trai rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't do things by myself."

"I know, but you're not going to get me to stop," Mark smiled, kissing her cheek.

They got to the house about twenty minutes later, with Trai extracting the fare from her purse and paying the driver, despite Mark's protests, silencing him with the argument that it was her hometown and therefore she was paying. Overhearing this exchange, the driver laughed and gave them a smile as they got out.

Mr. Buscemi was the one who greeted them, pulling his daughter into a long hug. Mark knew Trai was very close to her parents, and that they were keeping contact with her since Danny's death.

Mr. Buscemi smiled and held his daughter at arm's length to look at her. "You look amazing, Trai."

"Thanks, Daddy," Trai smiled softly. She kissed her father's cheek and nodded to Mark. "It's all because of him."

Mark blushed and stepped up to put his arm around her waist, offering his hand to Mr. Buscemi. "Hi, Mr. Buscemi. It's nice to see you again."

"Call me Scott. It's wonderful to see you, too, Mark. And thank you," he smiled at his daughter's fiancé, "for taking care of my little girl."

"Scott, they'll catch cold!" came Rosie Buscemi's voice from inside, as she came to stand at the screen door. "C'mon inside, kids. It's great to see you."

Trai gave her mom a hug as she went inside, and her mother, like all others, proceeded to fuss over her, saying she was too thin and needed more sun, but repeated Mr. Buscemi's statement that she looked wonderful. Trai laughed and thanked her mother, clearly happy to see her again.

Erica leapt up as Trai entered the living room, glad to see her again—it had been months. "Trai! How are you?" She'd been sad to hear of Trai's leaving New York back in October.

"I'm doing great," Trai said with a smile, hugging her. "Really, I am." She looked over at Micah and teased, "What, you can't give me a hug?"

"Of course I can, darlin'," Micah laughed, using his old nickname for her; she called him 'babe'. "Will your fiancé mind?"

Trai rolled her eyes, knowing there was friction between Mark and Micah, and entirely blaming Micah for that, due to his casual threat of physical harm—Micah was as much of an older brother to her as Danny had been. She hugged her old friend tightly, and he returned the embrace, glad to see her happy. Despite all their joking, Trai and Micah's relationship was entirely platonic, though they had been together for a short time in the past—Trai had staunchly sworn to Mark, however, that nothing had happened beyond making out. Danny had found them the one time they'd come close to sleeping together, and the relationship had promptly ended after they branded it "too weird."

Mark didn't know Micah that well, but he was on the fence about him—while he appreciated that he obviously loved Trai and took care of her, the threat of physical harm was still a bit hard to get past. Never mind the fact that Micah had almost fulfilled this threat upon hearing that Trai had left New York months before.

Micah and Mark settled for a cordial handshake, while Erica, a bride-to-be herself, with her and Micah's wedding in two months, chattered to Trai about their plans and asked for Trai's own. Considerably different than her fiancé, Erica had warmed to Mark instantly, and greeted him with a smile and a hug. After the greetings were done, Trai sat everyone down and went to join Mark, already practically beaming.

"Well, I think you've all probably gathered by now that I have an announcement. I wanted to come out here to tell you guys in person. Well, you all know that I'm engaged, but…" She smiled and twined her fingers with Mark's. "Mark and I… we're going to have a baby!"

Rosie and Scott immediately grinned, obviously overjoyed at the prospect of becoming grandparents, something they hadn't dared to hope for after losing Danny and hearing of Trai's miscarriage the year before. Micah smiled widely and stood, embracing her again. "I'm so happy for you," he said softly to her.

Trai hugged him back and whispered, "Thanks, Mic."

When they sat down and Rosie went to check the food, Erica asked her, "Do you have any names picked out?"

Trai glanced at Mark. They'd discussed it, once or twice, in talks about the future before she'd learned of her pregnancy. Trai had debated naming a son Daniel, after her brother, before she'd decided that ultimately it was too soon, that she and her parents needed some more time to grieve.

"I was thinking Natalie, for a girl," Trai said, giving Mark a soft smile. Mark nodding, agreeing with the name, and adding, "Adam was always a favorite of mine."

For a while, possible names were discussed, with everyone tactfully avoiding the subject that Trai and Mark had been through this once before, when Trai had named the baby they'd lost Grace. They tried not to touch the subject, not wanting to get caught up in imagining a future that had not and would not come to be. While Mark thought about it sometimes, he also knew not to bring it up around Trai, not wanting to upset Trai any more than she already was, with her emotions running high.

When the conversation turned to other topics, Scott also reminded Trai, "Y'know, most of my side will be here next month for the holidays. Maybe you should come, break the news to everyone?"

Trai looked over at Mark, silently asking his permission, something he hadn't done with her last year and that would probably have allowed them to avoid the disaster that had occurred. Mark, on the other hand, had only met Trai's immediate family, and was curious about the rest of her relations—he also knew that her father's side was Jewish, and from what he'd heard, fairly welcoming. Mark nodded, and Trai smiled. "Yeah, sure, we'll come."

"Great!" Scott smiled. "I know they'd love to see you." It had been years since Trai had come to holidays with the family; after college she'd mostly spent them with Jason's side. Jason's family didn't speak to her anymore, since Jason had been convicted and sent to jail for all the crimes he'd committed against Trai during the previous year. There had been countless charges of rape and domestic abuse, and Trai had provided enough evidence to convict him. Jason's mother, Martha Cromwell, still called occasionally to check up on Trai, but his father had openly refused to keep associating with her, and Trai had heard he was drinking, just like his son. Jason's brother and sister, meanwhile, had had no idea about their brother's behavior, and felt awkward dealing with the situation, and so avoided it altogether.

Dinner passed by in a flurry of excited discussions about wedding plans for both couples and Trai and Mark's impending parenthood. It was clear that Trai was excited, but after half an hour Mark noticed Trai was a little pale. Just as he did, Trai quietly asked her mother if she could be excused to go lie down, to which Mrs. Buscemi replied that of course she could, remembering the feeling. Mark helped clear the table once the meal was done, though Mrs. Buscemi said that he didn't have to, and she eventually gently forced Mark from the kitchen when he offered to help wash the dishes, saying gently, "Go sit with Trai; I'm sure she wants you."

Mark asked where Trai's bedroom was, having been in it only once before and only for a few minutes; Scott pointed him upstairs. He went upstairs and checked her bedroom. Finding she wasn't there, he got concerned, then checked the bathroom adjoining to her room. He found her there, sitting on the floor, her elbows resting on her crossed legs and her hands pressed to her forehead.

"Baby?" he asked softly.

Trai looked up a little, and he could tell her eyes were watering as she tried hard not to cry. "I hate this, I really do…"

Mark kneeled down next to her, wrapping his arms around her. Her morning sickness had been pretty bad lately, and he knew that she was upset. "I know, baby," he said gently. "I know. I know it has to suck. I'm sorry."

Trai was trying not to whine, but for the past four weeks she'd been tired and nauseous almost every day. "I wish it would just stop," she said quietly, resting her head on Mark's chest and closing her eyes to stop the room from spinning.

"I know," Mark repeated, kissing the top of her head. "I know, honey. But, Dr. Montgomery, she said that by your fourth month you'll start feeling okay again. And hey, you know what?" Mark turned her face up to his, and she opened her eyes to focus on him. "Then we can go shopping for the baby, to celebrate. You wanna do that?"

Trai sighed, hugging her knees to her chest. "I'm gonna look fat and disgusting."

"Hey, hey." Mark laced his fingers with hers. "You'll be _so_ beautiful. I can't say that enough. You'll look amazing, Trai. You always do."

Trai's stomach lurched, and she swallowed hard, trying not to vomit. She pressed her hand to her head, groaned weakly.

Mark rubbed her back. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's okay…"

Trai leaned forward over the toilet and threw up, looking completely miserable. Mark felt bad, blaming himself entirely, just for the simple reason that if it wasn't for him, she wouldn't be going through this in the first place. Mark stroked her palm with his thumb tenderly, trying to make sure she was at least comforted.

Trai leaned back against him once more, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. "I think shopping sounds good," she said finally, very quietly.

Mark smiled encouragingly. "Yep. We can pick out a crib and then put it together, later on."

"I promise I won't hide the directions this time," Trai said with a weak smile.

Mark laughed and kissed her cheek gently. "Feel better now?"

"Yeah, a little." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Thank you, Mark," she murmured. "You're too good to me."

"Hey, hey, none of that. I like taking care of you. You deserve it."

"Listening to me bitch and complain can't be all that great."

"I don't mind," Mark insisted. "Making you happy is all that matters." He sat with her for a few minutes more before asking, "You think you can get up?"

"I think so," Trai nodded. He stood and helped her to do so, catching her as she stumbled. "Whoah, you okay?"

"Just a little dizzy all of a sudden." She braced herself against the sink. "I think I should go lie down."

Mark nodded and helped her into her bedroom, watching her carefully as she lay down in bed. "Do you need anything?"

"Can you ask my mom if this ever happened to her?" Trai asked him quietly. "You know me… I really worry…"

"Sure, sure." Mark quickly kissed her forehead and went downstairs to find Rosie, who was reading in the kitchen. "Rosie?"

Rosie looked up, adjusting her reading glasses. "Yes?"

"Trai wasn't feeling well before; she got a little dizzy and she had to go lie down. She wanted to know if you might know what it is."

Though she looked concerned, Rosie nodded. "She might be dehydrated. It happened to me a couple times when I was pregnant with Danny. Give her some water, juice if she can take it, and let her rest a bit. That worked for me. If she's not feeling better in the next couple hours I can take her to the hospital."

Mark nodded quickly. "Thanks, Mrs. Buscemi."

"No problem. Yell if you need me."

Mark went back upstairs, having grabbed a glass from the kitchen, and filled it with water from Trai's bathroom. He put his arm around her shoulders and helped her sit up. "Your mom thinks you might be dehydrated. She thinks you just need some water and rest. If you don't feel any better, she'll take you to a doctor."

Trai breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thank God," she said quietly, and Mark could tell she felt a little better knowing her mother had experienced the same. He put the glass to her lips and she sipped slowly at the tepid water, which helped to ease her nausea.

She rested her head on her pillows. Most of the room, Mark noticed, was somewhat tie-dyed; he and Trai had grown up in the 60s. He had to smile a little bit. He loved how much he could learn about her just by being in her room.

He glanced over at her bookshelves. "You really do like to read," he laughed.

Trai smiled and nodded. "Yeah. You can take a look if you want; I don't mind."

He got off of the bed and walked to the bookshelves. She'd been very meticulous—everything was alphabetized. Some books were missing; he knew she probably had these at the loft. Her interests varied. There was a lot of sci-fi and fantasy, and also some romance—Mark knew that these had been her influences. D.H. Lawrence was also a prominent figure.

Mark smirked and held up a considerably worn copy of _Lady Chatterley's Lover_. "Let me guess… Lawrence is your hero."

Trai reddened. "Oh, leave me alone. I read it when I was sixteen and then I… kind of sorta thought erotica was interesting."

Mark laughed. "And the truth comes out. What did your parents say?"

"They didn't know until I said it in an interview," Trai laughed. "Yeah, that was an interesting phone call from Mom."

Mark noticed she looked tired, and he set the book down, kissing her forehead. "You should sleep. Am I staying in here with you, or…?"

Trai nodded. "Please? Mom and Dad won't mind… we _are_ engaged."

Mark nodded. "Okay. I'll leave you be for a bit."  
Trai smiled and squeezed his hand. "Thanks for taking care of me," she said softly.

"No problem." Mark left the room, turning off the lights on his way out.

* * *

Rosie was in the kitchen still. "How is she?" 

"She's fine. The water helped; I think you were right. She's resting now."

Rosie nodded. "Thank God she's all right," she murmured, echoing Trai's statement from earlier. Clearly she was relieved that her daughter and unborn grandchild were okay. "You were really worried, weren't you."

Rosie sighed and nodded. "I was. I worried about her so much when I heard that she miscarried; I told you that it happened to me when I was younger. I remember how I felt when Scott and I found out we were going to have Danny. And I know she's going through the same thing—you are, too, undoubtedly—and I'm concerned. It's a very emotional time."

Mark leaned against the kitchen counter. "It's been a lot for us to deal with," he affirmed quietly. "But we're doing okay. She's… very stubborn about letting me take care of her."

Rosie laughed softly. "Don't expect her to change. She's always been like that. But she'll probably at least relent somewhat if you dog her enough."

Mark slowly sat down beside Rosie. "I really do love her," he said softly. "I just… I worry that I'm not doing enough."

Surprised, Rosie set her book aside and turned to face him. "Why on earth would you think that?"

"I just… I don't know. She's been through so much; I wonder sometimes if I say too much, if I bring up things she doesn't want to think about. As it is we don't even… mention Grace. When she has nightmares, I don't want to mention Jason, because it upsets her to think about it."

"I'm sure you know by now that Trai isn't the most open person in the world. But Mark, you've truly been wonderful for her. More so than I could have imagined." She smiled a little. "There's no one I'd rather have for a son-in-law."

Mark blushed and looked away. "Really?"

"Really," Roseanna confirmed, squeezing his hand. "And I know Scott and I have said this, but… thank you so much for making her happy."

"It's been my pleasure," Mark said softly. "It really has."

* * *

**A/N- Man, I really got some of you with the spotting in the last chapter, didn't I? Didn't realize I was one of the only ones who knew that was normal! I will allay some fears here and say that Trai will **_**not**_** miscarry again, but that is all I am saying.**

**Again, I'm very, very pleased by the amount of reviews I've been receiving. Yay:) At this rate I think that I'll write the third story after all, because I freaking love working with the boho kids as I imagine them.**

**Stephanie Pascal- Haha, long reviews are no problem, I love them! Thanks very much for reading LFR, and I'm glad you find Trai believeable—I've been working with her character for a **_**very**_** long time, so I'm really glad about all the praise and support I've gotten on her character.**

**NotEASYbeingGREEN- I knew I'd freak some people out. But nope, Trai won't miscarry again; I'm not that cruel.**

**Midnightpopcorn- Almost done with **_**Wuthering Heights**_**, so once I have the time I will read **_**Twilight**_**! And thank you :)**

**Readerfreak10- Whoops. Well, Trai and the baby are okay, so no worries there :)**

**Srgirl6889- Man, people have already started in with the threats of physical harm? Awesome, haha. Wellll… it will be kind of depressing, but things will turn out okay.**

**Tina101- No way would I do that again; writing those chapters in LFR was too damn depressing! Plus I think people would come after me.**

**0xRENTxOZxHeadx0- Thanks!**

**Scififreakmi- I just find it entertaining that people have that kind of reaction; it makes me happy :)**

**Wickedgreenchild- Thanks for reading LFR and continuing on to this one; that makes me happy! And thanks so much for your wonderful remarks.**

**Diva Actress- Yup, I've been trying for a realistic approach; as I've said, not the easiest work as I've never experienced any of this personally! But, it's a nice challenge. I'd love to hear your predictions though; you can private message me if you wish and I'll tell you if you're hot or cold. I don't have any plans to change the story; I like the plan I have.**

**LagunaGrl90- Thank you!**

**Sundrynotes- You're one of the many I seemed to have freaked out, haha! And thanks!**

**TakeMeOrLeaveMe2010- As far as I've drafted, I haven't come up with any finite plans for Roger/Mimi, but they're the only couple of mine that I don't have dramatic plans for. So, I'm going to have to come up with a plan for them. And thank you!**

**WENDYbird05- Sorry, real life intervened and this one took a little longer. Damn college tours…**

**Meagan Shierling- Yup, there'll be drama for pretty much all the couples (including Micah and Erica; that's next chapter). So many people liked the OC drama, especially Angie/Danny, of the last story that I wanted to keep at it.**

**Okay, my lovely chickadees. Hopefully next chapter will be up soon; it'll be a continuation of this one and the boho gang will also make appearances. So, stay tuned!**

**- Sally.**


	5. How To Be Dead

"_**Please don't go crazy, if I tell you the truth/No, you don't know what happened/And you never will, if you don't listen to me while I talk to the wall/This blanket is freezing, it's been out in the hall/Where you've had me for hours 'til I'm sure what I want/But darling I want the same thing that I wanted before/So sweetheart tell me what's up, I won't stop, no way…"**_

— "**How To Be Dead"  
****Snow Patrol**

* * *

Chapter Five  
How To Be Dead

Micah Sellers and Erica Langdon had known each other since their senior year of high school—easily eleven or so years ago. They'd been engaged for a few years at least, with first school and then job-hunting and various other things constantly putting their wedding plans on hold. Still, if asked, Micah would say that he knew his fiancée quite well.

Erica waited until Micah was asleep the night they came back from Trai's. She was happy for her friend, happy that her and Micah's wedding was soon.

But habits were hard to break.

She slipped out of bed, reaching into the back corner of her dresser drawer and pulling out two bags, heading into the bathroom, closing the door over but not looking it. Micah slept like the dead.

Still, tonight Micah found himself getting up. He was restless. It had happened occasionally in the last few months, with the wedding coming up. When he realized Erica wasn't beside him, he figured she might be watching TV; she could be a bit of a night owl. When he checked the living room, she wasn't there.

He got up and went to the bathroom, knocking quietly. "Er—?"

The door had opened as he knocked.

Erica was sitting on the floor, a belt around her arm, a needle held in her hand.

Her head snapped up as she saw him, and her expression changed immediately. "Micah…"

Micah's breathing came hard. He was floored. Danny, his best friend, Trai's brother, had _died_ because of his HIV—something he wouldn't have had if he hadn't gotten addicted to heroin.

His fists clenched, making his nails dig into his palms. "Erica, what the _fuck_ are you doing?"

"Mic, I can explain—"

"You're shooting up. You're a _fucking_ addict!"

"Micah, please, please let me—"

"Get out," Micah whispered, shaking.

"Micah," Erica begged. "Please…"

"_GET OUT!"_

Tears in her eyes, Erica ripped the belt from her arm and threw her needle to the floor, getting up and running from the house.

Micah sank to his knees next to the needle, belt, spoon, lighter, and Erica's baggie of heroin, banging his fist into the wall once, then twice. How many times had he found Danny high? How many times had he had to make him go to rehab? And hadn't Erica been with him through all of it?

Micah rarely ever cried, but he found tears streaming down his face.

* * *

Mimi ran her fingers over Roger's bare chest as they lay together in bed that Saturday morning. "Someone was a naughty boy whose gig ran late last night." 

"Well, you punished me, didn't you?" Roger smiled crookedly, leaning over and kissing her gently. "Very well, I might add."

"Lauren was asleep; I had nothing better to do," Mimi mocked in an offhand manner. She laid her head on his chest; Roger wrapped an arm around her. "I was thinking, maybe we could ask Trai and Mark if they want to take Lauren for a day or two. See what they're getting into."

"Oh, I think they know," he laughed. "Mark's thinking he might want a boy."

"Might be nice to have a little balance," Mimi agreed. "Have you talked to Trai at all?"

"A bit. She's happy, as far as I can tell. Wants to start making wedding plans," he laughed.

Mimi played with her own wedding band. Her and Roger's anniversary had passed just a few days after Trai and Mark had learned the news. "They'll be happy," she smiled.

Lauren awoke and began to cry for attention. Only in his boxers, Roger got up and kissed Mimi on the forehead before going into Lauren's room across the loft, scooping his daughter up into his arms. "Hey, baby girl," he cooed softly. "You hungry?"

Mimi pulled on an old shirt of Roger's that fell to her knees and came to lean against the doorjamb, watching Roger. He was truly a great father. "You know she can't understand a word you're saying."

"She's smart. She'll catch on." Roger smiled and brushed past her, going into the kitchen to warm up a bottle.

Mimi sat at the kitchen table and said hesitantly, "Rog, the clinic called yesterday."

Even from where she was sitting, she could see the muscles in his back tense. "And?"

They went for blood tests every few months to make sure that everything was all right. Their last one had been about two weeks ago. "The doctor told me I'm fine," she said quietly. "But they… they think your T-cells are a little low. They want to do some more tests, but you may have to switch meds."

Roger let out a shuddery sigh and leaned his head against the cool wood of the cabinet as the microwave sounded shrilly. "Shit," he said quietly.

Mimi came to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. They both knew that new meds meant the inevitable round of side effects—fatigue, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, splitting headaches. In some ways it was worse than withdrawal, easily the most hellish experience Roger and Mimi could imagine.

She looked at Roger, then down at Lauren, who looked so much like him, her eyes and hair matching his exactly. "Baby, you know that whatever happens, I'm here, right?"

Roger swallowed and nodded, pulling Lauren's bottle from the microwave and putting it into her hands. "I know, baby," he whispered. "I know."

* * *

"Trai? You all right?" 

Mark put a hand on Trai's shoulder. It was around ten o'clock in the morning, and she was sitting in her bedroom, staring out the window. Rosie had made breakfast, which Mark had taken, but he knew enough to know that Trai didn't eat before noon these days.

"I'm okay," Trai said quietly. "Just missed being home."

Mark put his arm around her. "You want to do anything today?"

Trai shook her head, looking over at him. "Baby, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I appreciate it, I do, but I really don't feel like it today."

Mark nodded slowly. Her moods had been a little all over the place lately; she had her good days and bad days. This was one of her bad ones. "I love you, baby," he whispered.

"I know. I love you too." She kissed him and wrapped her arms around his waist, turning her face into his shoulder. "Thanks for last night. You made everything better."

"I'm glad," Mark said softly, kissing her cheek. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Bit nauseous. But I'm all right. Just a little depressed… for no reason, really."

"It's okay. Not like you can control it."

"Yeah," Trai murmured. Mark watched her, stroking his thumb along her cheek as they sat in silence.

A knock came at the door to Trai's room. Trai gently let go of Mark and got up to go to the door. Opening it, she found a rather haggard-looking Micah. "Mic? What're you doing here?"

"I need your help." His voice was hollow, weak. Even Mark could tell, by the concern on Trai's face, that this wasn't normal.

"Yeah, yeah, sure…" She led Micah into the room and sat him down, kneeling in front of him. "What's wrong?"

Micah pinched the bridge of his nose. "Erica's using," he said quietly.

Trai's mouth dropped open, and instead of rocking on her heels as she'd been doing previously, she sat on the floor, dumbstruck. "Oh my God… Mic, are you sure?"

"I fucking found her with a needle in her arm, Trai! Of course I'm fucking sure!"

Mark came to kneel beside Trai, putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing, knowing that this had to hurt—Erica was her friend, and Danny had been an addict. He, too, remembered watching Roger get into drugs.

"Where is she?" Trai asked Micah quietly.

"I don't know… I made her leave…"

Trai put her hands on Micah's knees. "Listen to me, okay?" she whispered. "We've survived this before, we'll get through it again… I know Erica and so do you—she'll come back. And when she does, she _needs_ to go to rehab. You _know_ that." Seeing the worry on his face, "Mic, she won't end up like Danny."

"How can you know?" Micah whispered.

Trai swallowed hard and looked into his eyes, admitting, "I can't."

Micah turned away and then got up, leaving the room. The screen door banged a few moments later, proving he'd left the house.

Trai shut her eyes, clearly upset. "Shit," she whispered.

Having been through it one too many times before, Mark knew how much this had to hurt her. He pulled her close into an embrace. "She'll be okay," he whispered. "She'll be fine."

* * *

Knowing Trai was upset and distracted, Rosie invited Mark to come along and do some shopping. He agreed, kissing Trai before he left and making absolutely sure she was okay. Though Scott was concerned at his daughter's mood, Rosie assured him that it was simply her hormones and that she would be best left alone. So it was that Scott, too, ended up on his wife's shopping trip. Mark helped them pick out some clothes and small gifts for the baby, knowing Trai would be pleased. The trip helped to distract him, but he could not help worrying about Trai. 

Staring up at the ceiling, Trai was lying alone in her bedroom when the doorbell rang. She was still upset, and didn't feel like getting it, but her mother had always had the habit of forgetting her key. She got up and went downstairs to answer the door.

"Erica?"

Erica was standing in the doorway, a bit of a mess. Her clothes were rumpled; her arms scabbed and covered in goosebumps from the biting cold. She was shaking. "T—Trai… can I c—come in?"

Trai stepped aside and led Erica into the living room, sitting her down and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. "Jesus, honey, you're freezing…"

"Slept in the park," Erica whispered, rubbing her arms. This close, Trai could see the track marks, paper-thin but numerous.

She put a hand on Erica's shoulder. "Honey, how long? And why?"

"Six months," Erica whispered, clearly ashamed. "I… I don't really know why. My friend, Therese, she was into it. And I was stressed about the wedding, about everything… so I tried it. And after that… it felt good."

"You need to get help," Trai whispered. "Micah and me, we can take you to where Danny went. You can't let this go, honey, please." She took Erica's hands. "Think of our weddings," she pressed. "Think of Micah. Think of… think of my baby… you and Micah, you'd be like the baby's aunt and uncle; I _know_ you want that, sweetheart…"

Erica just nodded, her face streaked with tears. "I'll… I'll get my stuff… you think Micah will drive me?"

Trai nodded and gave Erica a hug. "I'll visit whenever I can," she promised. "I'll make sure you're okay."

Erica hugged her back and closed her eyes, hoping everything would turn out all right.

* * *

Trai had not talked to Holly in years. 

It was strange, considering she and Holly had known each other since they were eleven and they'd been best friends in high school. They'd stayed in touch after college, but a huge fight four years before had driven a rift between them, at least in Trai's mind.

Holly lived right across the street still, with her father and her husband. Trai knew that Micah had probably gone to Holly about Erica, too—he was still close to her. Sitting alone, now just bored rather than depressed, Trai made up her mind—the fight had been stupid. She had to make up with Holly.

She walked across the street and knocked on the door. It was answered almost immediately by Jimmy Pearson, Holly's father, who looked surprised to see her. "Tracy Buscemi?"

Trai smiled, just a little; Mr. Pearson had always been nice to her. "Hey, Mr. Pearson."

"Christ, it's been so long… you're twenty-eight now, like Holly, right?"

"Yeah," Trai nodded. Mr. Pearson shut the screen door and came out onto the porch to talk to her. "How long's it been since you've been to Bay Shore?"

"I was here last March, for a day. Before that, I was out here for a week or two… for Danny," she said quietly.

Jimmy winced. "Shit. That's right…. I'm so sorry. I forgot. Holly, Gabe, and I, we were at the service; I don't think we had a chance to talk to you. Your eulogy was beautiful, by the way… Holly, she cried."

"How is she?" Trai asked.

"She and Gabe are doing fine. Two-year anniversary coming up. They want to have a baby soon. And by the way, are you still with Jason?"

"No, he and I broke up." _And good riddance._ "But I, um—I came with some news, to tell Holly, and I kind of wanted to make up with her… she and I fought, bad, a few years ago."

Jimmy looked surprised. "I'm sorry; I didn't know. But can I ask… what's the news?"

"I met a guy early last year—Mark Cohen. And… he and I are engaged, and we're going to have a baby," Trai said softly, smiling.

"Oh, Trai, that's wonderful!" He hugged her for a moment. "When're you due?"

"September."

"Well, you'll have to give us a call. C'mon inside, Holly's up in the attic. I'll get her to come down so you don't have to climb."

He led her inside and up the stairs. Trai found that very little had changed—she knew the Pearson household as well as her own, having spent enough time there as a kid.

They got to the top of the stairs and then to a folding set emerging from a hole in the ceiling, leading up to the attic. "Holly!" Mr. Pearson called.

Holly stuck her head out of the hole in the ceiling. "Yeah?"

Jimmy motioned to Trai. "You have a visitor."

Holly gasped at the sight of her old friend, immediately coming down the stairs and giving her a long hug. Holly's pale blond hair was coming loose from its ponytail, and she was dressed in a sports bra and sweatpants.

"I missed you," Holly told her. "Here, c'mon to my room. Thanks, Dad." She pecked her dad on the cheek.

"No problem, kiddo. And I mean it, Tracy—call more often!"

"I will!" Trai called back with a laugh as he went down the stairs.

Holly led Trai to her and Gabe's room, explaining that Gabe was out coaching the community football team, and then told Trai to sit down and make herself comfortable. Trai did so, before saying, "Holly, I've… I know I've been horrible to you these past few years. All the shit I said to you—you didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry."

Holly waved a hand. "Water under the bridge, Trai."

"Are you sure?"

Holly nodded emphatically. "Oh, yeah. Trai, I wouldn't let a stupid fight like that come between us. I know you were angry, and I'm sorry it got so awkward. I forgive you, Trai, really. It wasn't right for me to prod you about Jason when you weren't ready to tell."

"You were right, though," Trai told her. "About Jason. If Mic didn't tell you."

"He did. Did you at least break up with the bastard?"

Trai nodded. "Day Danny died," she said quietly. "And I… I came with news… news that I wanted my sister to know," she smiled. She and Holly had said for years that they were close enough to be sisters, and it was true—Holly's mother had died when Holly was young, and Holly had been at the Buscemi household constantly, leading Rosie to joke that she may as well have had a second daughter.

Holly raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I'm pregnant," Trai said softly.

Holly gave a squeal of excitement and leapt on Trai, hugging her old best friend tightly. "Oh, God, Trai, that's… that's fucking amazing! Who's the father?"

"My fiancé, Mark." Trai held out her hand as Holly let go of her so Holly could see the engagement ring. "He's out shopping with my mom and dad; I would've introduced him to you otherwise. He and my mom have been bonding over their stifling overprotectiveness."

"It's only 'cause they love you, you know that. Y'know, Gabe and I, we've been thinking of having a baby, too."

Trai nodded. "Your dad told me; I think it's great. Mark and I… this is actually our second try," she said quietly. "I… I miscarried last October."

Holly's face fell, and she scooted closer to put an arm around Trai's shoulders. "Oh… honey…"

Trai just nodded, brushing at her eyes with her wrist. "It happened really suddenly," she told her. "I'd… I'd only found out that morning…"

Holly felt horrible. No matter how awkward it had been between them in the last few years, her friend had been through a lot of shit, and she hadn't been there for her. "I'm really sorry, Trai," she said quietly. "No one deserves that. Especially not you. God, I should've been there…"

"There was nothing you could have done. With Jason or with the miscarriage," Trai assured her. "Honey, don't beat yourself up over it, please. It's in the past."

"I won't… but it still hurts that you went through all that. And I… Trai, I really want to be friends again. I want to be there for you."

"I want to be friends again, too," Trai smiled, giving Holly another hug. "I really missed you, Holly."

"Me too." Holly pulled away and looked at her for a moment. "Still sisters?"

"We never stopped," Trai said gently.

* * *

Micah returned from the rehab center later that afternoon to find Trai and Holly sitting on the porch of his house. His parents had moved to Florida years before, leaving the house to Micah and Erica. 

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked them quietly.

Trai stood and squeezed his hand. "We were thinking of going to the cemetery," she said quietly. "To see Danny's grave… you… you wanna come?"

Micah slowly nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I do."

They took Micah's car to the cemetery, the ride silent except for the radio playing softly. For years Danny had been part of their foursome. And now they were all together again, but he was gone.

Trai slowly led Micah and Holly to Danny's grave when they arrived at the cemetery. The headstone had rocks scattered on top, no doubt from Scott and his relatives, who were Jewish. Rosie, who was Catholic, had asked if they could put in the headstone just after his death, rather than after six months as in Jewish tradition. No objections had been raised.

Tears in her eyes, Trai knelt and picked up a speckled stone, holding it in her hand for a moment and squeezing it tightly before placing it on top of the headstone. "Hey, Jem," she whispered, touching the smooth stone. "It's… it's me… I know it's been a couple months; I'm sorry… I… God, Dan, I'm going to be a mom," she whispered. "And I don't know if I'm ready, I don't know if I'll be good at it… I wanted you to be here for this, I wanted you to be an uncle…"

Holly and Micah, who had kept their distance to give Trai some privacy, came to kneel beside her. Holly squeezed her shoulder, while Micah took her hand. "It wasn't fair," Micah whispered. "He was supposed to be my best man… and I ended up being a pall bearer."

Holly stroked her thumb over the headstone, a few tears streaming down her face. Danny had been her boyfriend for a month or two while she'd been a sophomore in high school. "I miss him," she said quietly.

"We all do," Trai whispered.

* * *

Nick Fannon had been Danny's closest friend at Harvard. In the absence of Micah, Nick had played the best friend role. He'd been on the football team as well, which had been how they'd met. 

Nick had been shocked on learning Danny was an addict, and HIV-positive. Hearing of his death had been even more of a shock.

What he did not know was that Danny's death had left Angela Jamison alone.

Nick had met Angie a few times. Trai had visited Danny every month or so at Harvard, and she'd brought Angie along occasionally. Nick had always thought she was a sweet girl, and pretty, but he'd never gone for her. Still, seeing her again in New York, he'd still felt an attraction to her, and hadn't been able to help asking her out.

Angie enjoyed being in Nick's company. He was sweet, a real charmer. He was a good date, very chivalrous. They never seemed to run out of things to say.

Angie couldn't help but remember that the last time she'd felt this kind of spark, it had been with Danny.

It was their fourth date in about a month or so. They'd never gone beyond having dinner, but tonight Angie asked him back to her apartment for coffee. Ever the gentleman, Nick didn't assume anything beyond that. Angie had told him she wanted to go slow, but hadn't stipulated quite why, and he'd been respectful.

Angie dug her hands into her pockets. _I'll tell him. Tonight, I'll tell him._

"How's Trai been doing?" Nick asked as they walked back to her apartment. "Her and her fiancé?"

"Oh, they're doing wonderful. Did I mention she's pregnant? I don't think I did."

"No, you didn't. That's really great, though. Christ. Danny would've had an aneurysm…"

Angie smiled as she thought about it. She'd thought the same when Trai had told her. "He was always a great big brother," she remarked as she unlocked the door and led him inside. "Make yourself comfortable." She gestured to the couch.

Nick sat down, glancing around at the décor and then at the pictures on the coffee table. Some of her and Trai, the most recent from a few months before. A few of her and Danny.

"How do you take yours?" Angie called from the kitchen.

"Sugar," Nick called back.

Angie came out to the living room with two mugs of coffee, some cream, and some sugar. She handed one mug and the sugar to Nick, setting her own mug and the cream for her onto the table. "Nick, there was something I wanted to tell you. About… about why I wanted to take this slowly."

"You don't need to explain, Ang. I completely understand; I'm fine with it."

"No, I… I really think I should." Angie sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Nick, Danny and I were in a relationship. Ever since I first met him, and… until he passed away."

Nick couldn't help but feel a bit of surprise. Danny had never mentioned this to him, nor had it been at all obvious. Danny and Angie had only seen each other a few times a year; he'd never thought they were seeing each other.

"We were pretty serious," Angie said quietly. "And I… I had a scare after he died. I thought I might've been pregnant, and there was a chance he'd infected me. I was… to tell you the truth, I was fucking petrified," she whispered. "I'm not infected, I'm fine, but… God, Nick, I still miss him… and I didn't know if I could do this with you."

Nick put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Angie… I didn't know."

"Trai was the only one I told, and that was only after he died. You couldn't have known," Angie told him. "I… Nick, if you don't want to be with me, I understand. I'm sorry I didn't tell you; I just didn't know if the time was right."

"It's all right. I understand, Angie… Angela. I understand."

"Do you still want to…?"

"Yes," Nick said softly, gently pulling her face to his and kissing her. Angie kissed him back for a moment, hesitantly, then deeper, moving closer and wrapping her arms around him.

They kissed for a few moments more before Angie pulled away and whispered, "Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"I… I think I… I think I… love you," she whispered.

Nick couldn't help but smile, stroking her thumb with his cheek. "I love you too," he said softly. "I love you too."

* * *

**A/N- Most of you felt bad for Angie in LFR, and I wanted to give her a little happiness. Hence, I give you Nick The Hottie, as I shall christen him.**

**I will throw it out there that I think Gary Lightbody is a lyrical genius. As with LFR's 22****nd**** chapter, I debated scrapping this one entirely, but there was another line in this song that struck me—"**_**oh baby let me explain something/It's all down to drugs/At least I remember taking them and not a lot else"—**_**that made me think exactly of Micah and Erica. Hence, this chapter stayed.**

**Of course, I did have problems; my mom loves the song "Rehab" and so whenever I sat down to write about Erica all I could think was, "They're trynna make me go to rehab and I say no, no, no…" :)**

**Reflectionette/Mechieee.- Yes, I quite enjoy writing it!**

**NotEASYbeingGREEN- Yep, I wasn't going to do it at first, but so many people loved LFR and this story, and I really want to write about the kids :) And thank you so much; you know I love your compliments!**

**Srgirl6889- Yep, I have an entire backstory for Trai, Micah, Danny, and Holly; I've gone into bits of it in LFR and this story. I'm glad you liked the scene between Rosie and Mark; I wanted them to bond a little. And the third story will definitely be written!**

**Sundrynotes- Haha, you and I have the same mind, I got the same image :) **

**Scififreakmi- Uh… I'm not specifying. You'll see eventually!!**

**Tina101- Yup, in my mind Mark's just a sweetheart, so I've been trying to write him as such.**

**Grapetheape- No problem; the fact that you're following is enough for me :)**

**Diva Actress- Haha, well, you'll see when the time comes what it is, then.**

**Stephanie Pascal- Nothing horrible will happen, not for a while yet, anyway. And thanks!**

**Domslove- Nice to see ya pop up again. Thank you!**

**Well, my chickadees, school starts tomorrow, meaning my time will be short. I am most definitely going to keep on writing, however my updates may be less frequent. I will keep trying!!**

**Have a lovely day!**

**- Sally.**


	6. Love And Memories

_"**Lovely, you're always lovely, a vision/ You were the one/Now I am stuck inside a memory/You forgot about our destiny/You buried me/Didn't you? Didn't you?/Love me faster than the devil/Run me straight into the ground/Drowning deep inside your water/Drowning deep inside your sound…"**_

— "**Love and Memories"  
O.A.R.**

* * *

Chapter Six  
Love and Memories

"Trai, take a break, okay?"

"Michelle, I'm fine," Trai laughed as she wiped down one of the tables at the Life about a half hour before closing. "Trust me. I'm fine." She'd been waitressing for about six weeks.

"You're four months pregnant and you've been on your feet all day," Michelle, her boss, reminded her. "You should give your body a break once in a while."

"I'd say she's right," Isabella remarked as she leaned over the bar, slinging her dishtowel over her shoulder.

"Meech, Iz, I have a fiancé to do this to me. Not you guys, too."

"We're just looking out for you," Michelle told her. "Go home, Trai; take a couple days off. I'll call you when you can come back in."

"Michelle, I—"

"No protests. Scoot." Michelle pointed her out the door. "Claire will fill in for you." Claire was Michelle's daughter.

Trai sighed. "Fine, but I'm coming back tomorrow."

"And I'll tell Neil not to let you in." She steered Trai out the door. "Go spend time with your fiancé. Stay off your feet."

"Fine," Trai relented. "I'll see you soon, Michelle."

"You too. Have fun!"

Trai enjoyed the walk home; the air was cool and the sky was clear. Winter had finally released New York City from its grip, and it was warming up a little. Trai was still in her work clothes, a blouse and skirt, but she'd thrown a sweatshirt on to keep warm. She was finally starting to show, something she was a little insecure about, but Mark made sure to tell her every day that she was beautiful, that it was true no matter what she looked like. She told him she didn't believe it for a second, but it was nice to hear him say it.

She jogged up the steps—now that her morning sickness and fatigue was over, she had a lot more energy—and said a quick hello to Roger and Mimi before going upstairs and letting herself in. The light on the answering machine was flashing, so she pressed the button to hear the message as she pulled off her sweatshirt and changed out of her work clothes.

"Baby? It's me." Mark was working too, now—Collins had pulled some strings and gotten him a job at NYU as a tech advisor. "I'm really, really sorry, but I have to work late. I know it's my night, but I was wondering if you could make dinner, please? The steaks are in the fridge; you're better at cooking it than I'd be anyway. Again, I'm really sorry; I wanted you to have a break tonight. I'll be home at seven, okay? Love you. Bye."

Changed into an old t-shirt and boxer shorts, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail and smiled as she went to take the steaks from the fridge. She loved to cook; it was not Mark's forte, which balanced things out perfectly. More often than not Mark's nights to cook ended up with some form of takeout, which Trai usually lightly teased him about, joking that she'd have to give him cooking lessons one day. Still, she put the steak in the oven and set the timer, then pulled out a piecrust, raspberries, and peaches, planning to make a pie for desert.

As she was midway through setting the peaches and raspberries into the crust, there was a knock on the door. She twirled some of her ponytail around her finger as she went to answer the door.

"Oh my _God!_" Seeing who was there, she gasped. _"Brad?!"_

"Surprise!" Brad stepped forward and hugged her tightly. "Christ, Trai, you look great! How are you?"

"I'm… I'm just amazing, if you want to know the truth!" Trai pulled away from the hug to look at her old friend. "How did you get my address?"

"Angie gave it to me a while ago. I meant to write you. Do you mind if I come in?"

"No, no, not at all. I was just making dinner."

"So did you and Jason move here?" Brad asked as he sat down at the table.

With her back to him, he didn't see Trai's wince. "We broke up," she said simply. "Thought Angie would've told you. I'm… living here with my fiancé, actually."

"Fiancé? Wow. Trai Buscemi the Unattachable, finally engaged. I saw no ring?"

"I took it off for now; I didn't want to get it dirty while I'm making the pie. And, uh… we're having a baby, too," she said, smiling softly as she turned around so she could see his face.

There was surprise, but also a huge smile. "So you're finally happy?"

"I finally am," Trai confirmed. Brad had been there when she'd broken up with Ethan; while the breakup had been friendly, it had made Trai sure that she'd be alone, that no one could possibly stand her. She was glad to see him again—they'd been great friends.

"So how's Justin been doing?" she asked as she went back to the pie.

Brad hesitated. "We're… trying it apart for a while."

Trai turned back to him after she'd put the pie aside, feeling bad as she saw his face. She sat down next to him and squeezed his hand. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry… I know how long you two have been together."

"I was wondering, could I stay here for a bit?" Brad asked, tentatively. "If your fiancé doesn't mind?"

"No, of course not. He's great. His friends used to come here to crash all the time, or so he tells me." She glanced at the clock as she took out the steaks and set them on the table. "He should be home around now, actually."

Coming up the stairs, Mark could hear voices coming from the loft. This was not unusual; Trai sometimes talked to herself while she worked, and, being a musical fan, she also had the tendency to sing showtunes while alone (last week he'd interrupted a particularly spirited rendition of "Mein Herr"). The thing that surprised him, however, was that there were two voices, one of which was Trai's, and the other of which was male, and at that a male voice he did not recognize.

He came into the loft pulling his messenger bag over his head, setting it down by the couch and coming into the kitchen to kiss Trai, despite the fact that she was holding a knife in her hand from cutting the steaks. "Hey, baby. I'm really sorry I'm late."

"No problem." Trai dropped the knife and hugged him, kissing his cheek. She motioned to the stranger sitting at the kitchen table. "Mark, this is Brad Calloway, an old friend of mine. Brad, this is Mark Cohen, my fiancé and the father of my baby."

"Pleasure to meet you," Brad said as he shook Mark's hand.

"Same here."

"Mark, can I see you in the bedroom for a second?" Trai asked, nodding to their bedroom. Mark nodded and followed her.

Trai nudged the door shut with her foot. "Okay, um, I know this is on really short notice, but Brad broke up with his boyfriend and he needs a place to stay."

Mark paused. "Wait, say that again?"

"… Brad broke up with his boyfriend and he needs somewhere to stay?"

_Boyfriend_. "Oh. Yeah, sure."

Trai smirked as she took in his face, leaning against the wall. "Mark, did you think I was cheating on you?"

"Well, it's not every day I come home and find you with another guy in the kitchen!"

Trai laughed and shook her head. "Sweetheart, I've known Brad since my freshman year of college. He sang at a cabaret that Angie knew. Trust me… he's gay."

"Sorry," Mark mumbled, looking away. "I just jumped to a conclusion… I found Maureen with guys more than once."

"I know. I'm sorry. If I'd known he was coming I would have warned you, but he just showed up." She stepped closer to Mark and gave him a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Besides, I'd never cheat on you."

Mark smiled, running his hands up her body, lingering for a moment on her stomach, which was bulging just barely. "Good to know. I love you."

"I love you, too." She kissed him again, then took his hand, leading him outside. "Okay, dinner while it's still hot. Brad, would you like me to make you anything?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"You sure? It's no trouble at all, promise."

Brad shook his head, laughing. "I'm all right, Trai, really. Christ, you always railed on me for being so concerned, and the _one_ time I say I'm not hungry you get on me!"

"Thank you!" Mark laughed. "See, someone agrees with me. For someone who hates being worried about, you do it way too much."

"Leave me alone, I have to be maternal now." Trai mockingly stuck out her tongue, then leaned over and kissed Mark on the cheek, keeping her hand on the table for balance. "I'll help you bring your bags in, Brad; I'm assuming you have them with you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. You can stay in my bedroom; I'll move my stuff out of the way for you. Do you mind?"

"No, it's fine. Thank you both, really. I feel horrible dropping in like this."

"It's no problem." Mark gave Brad a smile. "I like meeting Trai's friends." He smirked over at her. "They're very interesting, to say the least."

"Okay, meeting all _your_ friends freaked me out at first," Trai laughed. "Make no remarks about mine."

"How's Angie been doing?" Brad wanted to know. "I haven't spoken to her in a while."

"She's dating an old friend of Danny's, Nick Fannon—they met at Harvard." She didn't know whether or not Angie had told Brad about Danny when they last spoke; she decided not to mention it. "She's in rehearsals now; can't remember the play. She and I were in a production of _Midsummer_ back in July."

"Excellent," Brad smirked. "Who did you play?"

"Helena, of course. You don't remember my wonderful performance in front of Professor Myers' class?" Trai laughed. "I got so nervous I almost threw up."

"Yeah, I remember that. Would've loved to have seen you perform."

"I have the tape," Mark offered.

"_No_," Trai admonished, laughing, pointing at him with her fork. "You show him, I kill you."

"Oh, come on, Trai, please?" Brad mock-pouted. "I won't make any remarks."

"Let's not pick on the pregnant woman, please." Trai finished her steak and got up to put her plate and silverware in the sink, taking Mark's plate as well once he was done and serving the pie shortly after. She helped Brad with his bags after doing the dishes, and Mark told her he'd be editing, wanting to give her some time alone with Brad.

They settled down to talk in her bedroom. Trai sat cross-legged on the bed, across from Brad, and started to uncap a bottle of nail polish for her toenails. She glanced up at Brad. "Would you mind if I…?"

"I can do it," Brad offered. Having worked in the cabaret for years, Brad had an amazing way with makeup. Trai nodded, resting her feet on his crossed legs and letting him start on her toenails.

"So how long have you and Mark been dating?" was his first question.

"Since January of last year. Just after I lost Danny," she said quietly. She sighed, shutting her eyes, deciding to tell Brad everything. "Brad, Jason… Jase was abusive. He used to hit me, rape me… and Danny knew. Angie knew; my old friends from back home knew. I met Mark around Christmas, and I really liked him. Angie got me to confess about Jason, and when I admitted it to Danny, I realized I wanted to break up with him. He kicked me out and I came here… it was the only place I could think of. And when I knew Mark liked me too, we decided to try it. It… really hasn't been easy. We went through some serious shit back in October… but we're past it now."

Brad breathed out slowly. "I never knew… Trai, you know you could've called me, right?"

"I know, honey. I'm sorry. I really should have." She paused, watching him apply the light blue polish, then asked softly, "Brad, sweetie… why did you and Justin break up? If I can ask?"

Brad sighed and hesitated, biting his lip. He'd been hoping she wouldn't ask, but Trai had known him too long—she knew something was bothering him. "Trai, Justin was sleeping around," he said quietly. "And… shit, Trai… Trai, someone he slept with infected him… infected him with HIV." He had to breathe in for a second. "And Justin gave it to me."

Trai's face fell with shock, sadness, and sympathy. She reached out and held his hands in hers. "Oh… oh, sweetie, I'm… I'm sorry… shit, that's… that's just horrible. How could Justin…?"

"I don't know," Brad whispered, his voice strained, trying valiantly to fight the tears he'd been refusing to shed since learning he was HIV-positive. "I don't know."

Trai reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "I've been through this before," she whispered. "I did this with Danny, and I almost had to with Angie… sweetheart, this isn't a death sentence… trust me. Mark's friends… most of them have HIV. Roger and Mimi, they live right downstairs; I've gotten really close to them… they've each had it for a few years now at least, and they just had a baby girl about nine months ago… she's the sweetest thing, Brad. And Danny… he didn't let it stop him. He was going strong for a good few years, practicing law and everything. Honey, you can live with this. If you want, I can ask Mark if he can ask one of his friends to talk with you, okay? You want that?"

"Might help," Brad said quietly.

"It really does help to talk," Trai said gently. "At first, I didn't want to… but when I did, it got so much easier. And it'll get easier for you, okay? I promise…"

* * *

Trai spent an hour or so comforting Brad before she finally got him to sleep. She entered her and Mark's room slowly, her head spinning. No matter how many people she knew with the virus, it never got easier to hear about someone she knew and cared about having it. 

It made her think of things she didn't want to. Of Danny's death, and how he had almost infected Angie. Of how she and Mark had promised Roger and Mimi that if anything were to happen to them, they would take in Lauren. It wasn't taking in Lauren that scared Trai—it was the possibility of losing Mimi and Roger, who had helped her through so much, who were just like family to her.

Mark noticed she looked distressed, and pulled her into his arms as she got under the covers and pulled close into him. "What's wrong?" he asked her softly.

"Brad has HIV," she whispered, the words feeling unfamiliar on her tongue, somehow wrong. This was _Brad_. She'd known him almost ten years; he'd been a lifeline for her in college, helping her get ready for dates, giving her perspective, giving her a shoulder to cry on when Angie wasn't around.

Mark knew exactly how she felt. He remembered when he'd learned Collins was infected, and when Roger had found April dead, at the same time learning he was HIV-positive. "Oh… my God… is he all right?" _Are you?_ He knew how hard Trai took these things after Danny, and that the question would be rhetorical. She was nearly crying—of course she wasn't all right.

"He's okay," she whispered. "We talked for a little while… he just seems a bit shocked… I was wondering, would Collins or anyone mind talking to him for a bit? He just needs someone right now, someone who knows what it's like…"

"Yeah, I can call him tomorrow," Mark nodded. "He won't mind at all." He pulled Trai closer to him, just wanting to make sure she was all right.

Trai breathed in for a second, then leaned her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and breathing slowly calming her down. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Mark, does it scare you sometimes? Knowing that when they die, you'll be alone?"

"More than you know," Mark whispered into her hair as he held her, remembering how hard it had been three years ago, with Angel dying, Mimi nearly so, and Roger struggling to come to grips with his diagnosis. "But I won't be alone… you won't be alone… you have me, I have you, we have our baby," he whispered. "Remember that."

"I don't want to lose Brad… I don't want to lose Roger and Mimi… goddammit, Mark, it's just not fair…"

"I know it's not," Mark whispered. "I know… I wish every day that it wasn't like this…"

For a while they lay there in silence, both of them lost in thought. Neither of them wanted to broach the subject again, so Mark gently stroked her hair and said softly, "Did Michelle send you home early?"

"Yeah. She wants me to take a few days off."

"What's the matter? Did something happen? Are you feeling okay?" Mark was immediately defensive.

"Jesus, Mark, I'm fine," she said, giving him a smile, though it was a little forced. "I feel great, actually… well, physically, at least. No, Michelle thinks I should be staying off my feet more."

"Oh. Well, I kind of agree with her there."

Trai groaned. "I'm fine. Can't either of you see that? I'm not made of glass just because I'm pregnant!"

"I know, baby, really, I do. But we're just worried. I want you to try and relax this weekend. Maybe we could go see a movie or something."

"Maybe, but the last time you and I saw a movie together, I was treated to a cinematography lecture," Trai teased lightly, yawning. "What fun that was."

"Yeah, well, can't be any better than the last book you read after me; you were the one criticizing my taste." Mark teased right back. As a writer, Trai had the tendency to relentlessly pick apart books; Mark did the same with movies. It made their discussions interesting, to say the least.

Trai nuzzled his cheek. "Did I ever mention that you are amazingly good at making me feel better?" she murmured.

"No, but it's good to hear," Mark smiled, kissing her forehead. "I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too."

* * *

"Roger?" 

The next morning, Mimi found Roger sitting on the bathroom floor, his eyes closed, leaning against the wall. The prescription bottle for his new meds, which he'd gotten only yesterday, was held in his hand.

"Rog?" she said, quieter, kneeling down and putting her hand on his shoulder. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Roger opened his eyes and glanced over at her. "I'm fine," he told her. "Don't worry about me."

"Baby, I can't help it. Talk to me, please," Mimi whispered. "I know you're upset. I want to help."

"Not much you can do," Roger reminded her. "Switching meds sucks, you know that."

Mimi wrapped her arms around him. "I hate watching you hurt," she whispered. "Just please tell me if I can do anything."

"I'm _fine_," Roger insisted, shrugging out of her embrace. "Just leave it, Meems."

He got up, dropping the prescription bottle and leaving the loft, heading up to the roof. He wasn't angry, exactly—he just wanted to be left alone.

Upstairs, Trai was having similar problems. Mark and Brad were driving her crazy.

Though Brad had been living with them less than twenty-four hours, he'd decided to side with Mark in Mark's quest to pretty much ban her from doing any household chores, no matter how much she insisted. All Trai wanted was to be left alone, to stop being treated like she couldn't do anything.

"Honey, sit down." Brad ordered, steering Trai to the couch. "I'm here; I'm helping."

"You're our guest!" Trai protested, trying to get up. "I'm not letting you—"

Coming out of the bedroom after hanging up with Collins—Brad would be meeting with him later on—Mark caught the tail end of their argument. "Trai, the reason Michelle sent you home is because you shouldn't be working as much," he pointed out. "You're staying off your feet, even if I have to tie you down."

"How kinky," Trai mumbled under her breath. She was sarcastic under the best of circumstances; when she was irritated, it tended to come out more. "Fine."

"Thank you." Mark leaned down and kissed her gently. "What d'you want for breakfast?"

"Anything's fine. Whatever you feel like," Trai mumbled.

"Baby, I'm asking what _you_ want. I don't care about what I want."

"I don't know. Pancakes. Something. Just leave me alone. Please."

"Brad, can you get everything ready?" Mark called into the kitchen.

"I'm on it!" Brad shouted back.

Mark sat down on the couch, putting one arm around Trai and putting his other hand on her belly. "Trai, are you feeling okay? You're not normally like this."

"I'm fine, all right?" Trai sighed. "I'm fine. Whatever. I look disgusting and I hate everyone waiting on me, but I'm fine."

"Trai, you look great," Mark insisted. "Trust me. You do. And Brad and I waiting on you… I'm sorry, baby, but that's just not gonna change. We care about you, Trai; we're just making sure you're happy, comfortable."

"Oh, yeah? Then lay off!" Trai stood angrily. "You _know_ I like to do things myself! You _know_ that I hate you worrying about me! And you _know_ that I hate you hovering! Can I have one _second_ alone?!"

"You never asked—"

"Yeah! Yeah, I did! I told you to stop waiting on me and you didn't even give a damn!" She stormed over to the closet and grabbed a sweatshirt. "I'm going up to the roof. Don't even fucking try to bother me."

"Trai—"

She didn't respond, just grabbed her notebook and slammed the door to the loft.

The roof was where she went to think and write when she wanted quiet. Usually, she was alone up there, but today someone else was up there too—Roger.

Surprised, she went to sit down next to him. "Roger? What're you doing up here?"

"I should be asking you. It's cold out."

Trai shrugged on the sweatshirt. "I'm fine." She set down her notebook and pen and kneeled next to him, crossing her legs under her. "What's up?"

Roger sighed. "I had to switch meds. I don't know if you ever saw your brother do it, but it's really not the greatest thing in the world. Mimi keeps thinking she can do something about it, and she can't."

Trai nodded in sympathy. "Mark's hovering," she said simply, stretching her arms over her head. "I hate when he hovers."

Roger squeezed her shoulder. "You know Mark. That's how he is."

"He's telling me I never asked for time alone! I did! He just never listens!"

"Just tell him that. He won't do it again if it pisses you off."

"Well, I, uh… definitely let him know. He got a bit of an earful… shit. I think I'm one of those bitchy, hormonal pregnant women," she laughed a little.

Roger laughed too. "Well, at least he won't hover anymore…"

Trai smiled, feeling better. "Hey, you wanna do something? Give it a couple hours before we go back?"

Roger smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that."

* * *

Trai returned at about two o'clock. Brad was out with Collins; Mark was in his editing room, doing some work. Trai set down her notebook in the bedroom, then quietly knocked on the door of his editing room. She felt bad about how she'd snapped at him before. "Mark? Can I come in?" 

"Push the door," he called back.

Trai opened the door and shut it again behind her, coming into the room and pulling a bag of M&M's from the shopping bag she was carrying, offering it to Mark. "Truce?"

Mark nodded and took the bag, shutting off the equipment and then turning on the lights, turning his swivel chair to face her. Before he could speak, Trai sighed and leaned carefully against one of the tables holding a stack of VHS tapes. "I'm really sorry, Mark. You know how I've been lately… moody, bitchy, however you want to put it. I really didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"I just want to make sure you're doing okay," Mark reminded her. "I know you hate me constantly asking you if you're okay, but it's just what I'm going to do. I'll back off a little, try to give you more time to yourself, but if you're not feeling well or something, come to me, okay?"

"Okay," Trai said softly, nodding, then leaning forward and taking a handful of M&M's from the now open bag. "Wanted chocolate all day," she laughed.

Mark smiled and got up, putting his arm around her waist. "You still want to see a movie or something? Brad probably won't be back for a while."

"Yeah, sure. We could see _Benny & Joon_ if you don't mind me staring at Johnny Depp," Trai teased.

"If you'll be happy, then deal," Mark smiled. "But am I cuter?"

"Of course," Trai smiled and pecked his lips lightly. "I'll check the times…"

* * *

The night was hot for April, and that night, Trai was lying in a black lace bra and panties on top of the covers, reading a book. Mark was lying on his side in a button-down and boxers, watching her. 

His hand came to rest on her stomach, and he gently ran his thumb over her skin. "Our baby," he murmured into her ear.

Trai set down her book and moved closer to him, laying her head on his chest, putting her hand over his. "I know," she murmured. "Does it freak you out a little still?"

"Every day," Mark chuckled softly.

"You'll be a great dad," Trai told him with a small smile. "You really will."

He was about to say something, when he felt something under his hand—the smallest flutter of movement. A kick.

He looked at her, caught her eye. "Did you feel that?" he whispered.

Trai nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Yeah," she whispered. "Yeah, yeah, I can feel it…"

"Does it hurt?" Mark asked her softly, awed.

"No… it just feels weird…" She tilted her head and kissed him very softly on the lips. "I love you, Mark," she whispered.

"I love you, Trai…" He kissed her back, then moved his lips to her earlobes, her neck, her collarbone, between her breasts.

As he looked up again, he touched her cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Trai told him. "I'm… God, I'm absolutely perfect… our _baby_, Mark…"

"I know," Mark whispered, cuddling her close, nuzzling her cheek softly.

Trai kissed him deeply, passionately, gently pulling him on top of her. He looked at her for a moment, as if asking for her permission, which she silently granted. Reassured, he slid his hands over her back and unhooked her bra, slipping his hands underneath and gently squeezing her breasts. He felt a shudder run through her body as she pulled herself up to kiss him, putting her arms over her head so he could take off her bra.

He kissed every inch of her skin that he could reach, inhaling her scent—ink and jasmine, from her typewriter and pens and the body wash she used. She kissed him softly as she slipped his shirt off, slid her fingers down under the waistband of his boxers and wrapping her hand around the heat of him. Not to be outdone, Mark slid one hand into her panties, teasing her, making her break away for air and gasp, "I hate you."

"Really, now. Then maybe we shouldn't…" He smiled as she moved her hand and pulled off his boxers, and he finally pulled off her panties, entering her gently.

He made sure to be careful, not to be rough—although Dr. Montgomery had assured them that it was perfectly all right to have sex, neither of them wanted to take chances. Mark's overwhelming desire to just keep her safe, protect her, also played a role.

Mark bit his lip hard, trying to hold back. "God…" he breathed into her neck. "Oh, God, Trai…"

Trai's eyes were closed, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Mmm… _Mark_…"

Her saying his name was what did it; he didn't want to hold back any longer. He came just a moment before she did, panting pleasurably. Trai's own climax made her arch her back, digging her nails into his shoulders, which only made it better. Mark rolled onto his side, careful not to lay on top of her. They were both sweating.

Mark pulled her close to him and buried his nose in her hair. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much…"

"You are the greatest guy I could ever ask for," Trai murmured, running her fingers over his chest. "Only five more months and we'll be parents…"

"And a few more after that and we'll be married."

"God, if I haven't said it, Mark… I'm _happy_… beginning of last year, last October, I didn't think it was possible, but I am… and it's all because of you," she whispered. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Mark told her, kissing her. "You're so welcome."

* * *

**A/N- Shit. This took a lot longer than I wanted it to, and to top it off I had to split this chapter in two! This chapter originally had a bit more in it, but as this was already nine pages, I decided to cut the rest and add it into the previously skimpy Chapter Seven.**

_**Benny & Joon **_**is an awesome movie if you've never heard of it:) By the way, all of you should go see **_**Across the Universe**_**; that is also an awesome movie!**

**And kudos to all of you who caught my Mark/March mistake in the last chapter! It's been fixed… this is what happens when one types at 5:00 in the morning.**

**Scififreakmi- I mean that I have plans that no one knows about:)**

**Sundrynotes- Well, I'll go more into Nick's character as we go on. I really haven't come up with much for him myself yet, just that he's a sweetheart.**

**Stephanie Pascal- Thanks! And yep, I have been SWAMPED with homework and quizzes (especially quizzes…), hence why this chapter took super long. Hopefully I'll get more time to write soon! (Although this is unlikely since next week I have to take the SATs! Yeah, fun stuff for you to look forward to in high school, haha!)**

**Tina101- Yep, I like going into Trai's life and friends, and Erica will do okay.**

**NotEASYbeingGREEN- Let me restate my love for you. Do not even worry about long reviews; I always look forward to yours :) Oh, and I would never kill Roger. I'll put him through some minor pain, but I'd never kill him off. I love him too much. And I'm so glad you liked Trai and Micah!!**

**Srgirl6889- Ahh, another AP sufferer. I took Euro last year and procrastinated frequently! (Heh, many chapters of LFR were written in lieu of DBQs…) And if you couldn't tell, I overthink my backstory and I'm glad that you liked it!**

**0xRENTxOZxHeadx0- Thank you!**

**Midnightpopcorn- Thanks! Heh, I addressed the Mark/March issue before; that one was all me! And I did start **_**Twilight**_**, but life has intervened and I haven't yet had time to finish it. I will when I can!**

**Diva Actress- Me typing early in the morning leads to my fingers confusing months with hot filmmakers:) And yep, my school started on the sixth.**

**Readerfreak10- No problem, and thanks!**

**Birdhearted- I'm happy for Angie myself. And alas, school got in the way of me updating. But, I have now!**

**Okay, well, SATs next Saturday! Fun! (Not.) Meaning, again, I will update when I can. Do not worry, my dear readers, I will stick it out with this one as I did with LFR! Bear with me as I go through school!**

**Thank you all! Have a great night!**

**- Sally.**


	7. All You Need is Love

"_**Nothing you can make that can't be made/No one you can save that can't be saved/Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time/It's easy/All you need is love/All you need is love/All you need is love, love/Love is all you need…"  
**_

— "**All You Need is Love"  
****The Beatles

* * *

**

Chapter Seven  
All You Need is Love

A week later, on the day that Trai and Mark would be going to Bay Shore to see Trai's family for Passover, Mark woke to find himself still curled against Trai, her body fitting into his perfectly. He breathed in the scent of her hair and sighed contentedly, kissing her neck.

She woke a few moments later. "Mmm… morning," she murmured, rolling over to face him, smiling softly. He slipped his hand down to her belly. "How's my boy?"

"Doing very well," Trai smiled a little, "but we still don't know if it's a boy yet."

"I know, I know; it'll be a surprise. But I'm still excited," Mark grinned and kissed her. "What d'you say to shopping soon?"

"I say yes. And we can still do some of the wedding stuff, too. Definitely something to look into after Passover."

Mark sighed. "I know I told you not to be nervous meeting my family last year… but now _I'm_ nervous."

"I know, sweetie. I'm sorry," Trai said apologetically, kissing his forehead. "But they really won't be that bad. Danny brought home girls before, and they were fine. They'll _love_ you."

"And when they find out you're pregnant?"

"They'll be shocked, yeah, but I swear it'll be okay, Mark." She rested her head on his shoulder and stretched out so that she was lying more comfortably. "Mmm… ugh. I hate this whole weight gain thing," she sighed, never having been very comfortable with her image. "I look horrible."

Mark gently slipped one of his hands up the overlarge t-shirt she'd started wearing to bed since she'd begun showing, softly running his hand over her stomach. Feeling the baby kicking, actually moving, under his touch was still the most surreal feeling—he just loved her so much, and he could barely believe that the life they'd conceived together was perfectly healthy, growing inside the one person he loved more than anyone else in the world.

"Listen to me," he murmured into her ear. She closed her eyes a little at the sound of his voice. "There's nothing that could ever change the way I feel about you, and you know that. Nothing could ever make you unattractive to me."

"Not even the scars?" Trai asked him quietly. It was the first time she'd ever said anything about them.

Jason had abused her for years, in a variety of ways. As a result, Trai had scars all over her body—some from knives, some from beatings, some from cigarette burns. Every time they made love, and he lay next to her afterwards, he couldn't help looking at them, tracing them with his fingers, wondering how anyone could harm someone so beautiful.

The first time he'd touched them, she'd flinched, pulling away and stopping their foreplay, telling him that it was too personal, that she couldn't do it. She'd spent that night in her own room, lying awake, trying not to think of her abuse. Gradually, as she'd learned to trust him, and became more comfortable with their being sexually intimate, she'd let him begin to touch them. Her trust in him had taken a long while, but it had been worth it.

"It hurts to see the scars sometimes," he admitted. "It does. I hate to think of someone doing that to you. But no matter how they got there, they're beautiful, and they don't stop _you _from being beautiful either."

Trai turned her face to his, her gray eyes staring into his with an expression of utter trust and security. "You were the first guy after Jason abusing me and Danny dying that I ever trusted," she whispered. "God, Mark, I didn't think that I'd ever trust anyone again… Jason ruined me…"

"I know," Mark whispered, smoothing her hair with his free hand. "And he's a blackhearted bastard who doesn't deserve to live. But I'm glad that you trust me… and I'm glad that we're going to have our baby."

Despite her insecurities about her looks, Trai's hand slowly came to rest over his on her stomach, twining her fingers tight into his and grasping them tight. "I was thinking that maybe we could start the shopping soon," she said softly, her lips twitching in a small smile as she touched her forehead to his. "Maybe some wedding planning."

"Sounds good to me," Mark smiled. "Any thoughts on the honeymoon?"

"Just one," Trai said with a small grin. "Hawaii."

"Really, now? Why? We're both pale as death," Mark chuckled softly.

"This is true. But after I have this baby… I want to go to the beach, look pretty in a swimsuit, then get to the hotel, strip naked, and make love," she teased softly, pecking his lips. "What do you think?"

"Absolutely," Mark smiled, kissing her cheek and then her lips, then getting up to get dressed.

* * *

Trai, Mark, and Brad ate breakfast together before Trai told Mark that she wanted to check on Roger before they left. They'd each been trying to check on Roger at least once a day since he'd switched medications, making sure he was all right. 

Trai was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, her family not being the most formal of people. Mark, in his infinite nervousness and insecurity, was in a dress shirt, tie, and pants, and was probably working with his filming equipment to soothe his nerves at the moment, as his fiancée went downstairs to check on his best friend.

The door was open, so she went in without knocking. Mimi had gone out, and Roger was home taking care of Lauren, who was in a playpen by the couch, where he was resting.

"Hey, big girl!" Trai cooed, scooping the nine-month-old into her arms delightedly. She loved Lauren as she would her own child—and in a way, Lauren almost was her child, since she and Mark had agreed to take her in if anything happened to Roger and Mimi.

Roger opened his eyes a little as Trai leaned down to kiss his forehead and smooth his hair, Lauren held to her hip with her left hand. "Rog, how are you?"

"I've been a lot better," Roger sighed. "You?"

"I feel great, actually. Ugh. Sorry. I shouldn't be so chipper about my health when yours obviously isn't in the greatest state right now."

"No, no, it's fine. I'm glad you're doing okay; I know you had a rough time with your morning sickness and everything. But, yeah, switching meds is a bitch."

"Seems like it. Guess you just have to stick it out." She sat down on the coffee table and put her legs to the side, putting Lauren on her lap and playing with her hands.

Roger watched them with a tiny smile, turning onto his side—sitting up made him dizzy. "She really loves playing with you. I'm telling you, Trai, you'll be an amazing mother."

"Keep saying it, doesn't mean I'll believe it," Trai laughed. "We'll see when the baby comes. God, we're almost halfway through…"

"I'm sure Mark will probably be filming everything, the day you go into labor. I just want his reaction in the delivery room," Roger smirked.

"God help him if he puts that camera on me when I'm in labor. I swear I would murder him," Trai laughed. "He has enough of me on tape that I'd rather he not have."

"He lets you watch what he films, right?"

"Yeah. I help him out a bit with editing, sometimes, when I want to learn what it's like. He teaches me editing; I teach him cooking and stuff. There're only a few things of his he hasn't let me see."

"What are they? If you want to tell."

Trai gently set Lauren back into the playpen and exhaled as she sat down on the coffee table again. "The things he filmed after I lost Grace," she said quietly. "When we were both… pulling away from each other, we both went through a bit of a… dark period, I guess. For a couple days, all I could do was write; after that I hit a block. I don't look at that notebook anymore… I don't like being reminded."

"Do you talk about it with him?" Roger asked, wanting to help her open up a bit.

"Sometimes," Trai said quietly. "I… they told me that we probably conceived her in mid-September… and when I thought about it, it was probably on my birthday," she whispered. "And… I would've been due next month… if I'd carried to term. It still… bothers me. What we could have had…"

She glanced away, tears pricking at her eyes. She sometimes thought about what it would have been like if she had been able to tell Mark about being pregnant that day, if she hadn't lost the baby. She thought about what it might have been like if she'd been able to hold Grace in her arms.

Since they'd found out she was pregnant again, they'd each been trying to heal, in their own separate ways. Grace would always be a memory to them, a possibility, but with a baby on the way and a wedding to plan, they knew that they had to try harder to not focus on a future that wasn't going to happen.

Roger reached out and gently squeezed her knee. He could remember how hard Mark's detachment had been on her after the miscarriage—most nights, he'd been the one staying up with her, holding her. She reached out and put her hand over his. "Thank you, Roger," she whispered.

"For what?"

"Everything. Everything you've done for me… without you, I never would have trusted Mark… it was what you said, about him being a great guy and everything, that did it… you helped me so much, with my nightmares, with the miscarriage, with getting Mark and I back together…"

"Trai, don't thank me. You don't have to." Roger came to sit up slowly enough so that it didn't bother him. "Trai, when I first met you, you were lying beaten in an alley… you were traumatized. I could tell Mark really loved you, that he was interested in you, and I liked you. All I've ever wanted to do is help you, Trai, and you don't need to thank me for that. I was doing what I had to," he gently reminded her.

Trai leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "I have to go," she said softly, "but I'll come back later, okay? Feel better."

Roger hugged her for a moment. "Okay. Have a good time."

"Thanks." Trai smiled at him and left.

* * *

Brad opened the door after Trai and Mark had left to find Collins standing there. "Tom! Hi," he said with a small smile. Since their meeting last week, he and Collins were starting to talk more. It was nice to have someone who knew what he was going through, and it helped to lessen the fear and the pain. 

"Hey," Collins smiled. "Cohen and Trai here?"

"No, they went to Bay Shore for the day. Passover with Trai's family."

"I take it Mark was a sight this morning."

Brad laughed. "Trai told me not to say anything. But, I've never seen anyone that nervous."

Collins chuckled. "That's Mark for you. Well, I was looking for you anyway. Mind if I come in?"

"No, no problem." Brad stepped aside to let him in. "You were looking for me?"

Collins nodded. "Wanted to see how you were."

"I'm doing all right," Brad shrugged. "I'm… adjusting, I guess. Justin… he and I were together for four years," he admitted. "Four _years_. And I never even thought he was cheating on me. And then one day I come home and he's crying. He's telling me that he's infected, and that I probably am too." Brad sank down onto the couch with a sigh. "What the hell do you say to that?" he whispered.

Collins winced in sympathy, remembering learning of his own diagnosis. It was painful, and not an easy thing to go through when you didn't have anyone behind you. He could only imagine how Brad had to feel—being betrayed by the one person you trusted, and then having to rely on them while waiting to hear about your diagnosis? That had to be pretty damn hard.

"For me, it was a one-night stand," he admitted. "I realize, looking back on it, that it really wasn't the wisest thing to do… but Mark and the others helped, once I told them. I helped Roger when he found out."

"You've been helping me," Brad said, very quietly.

Collins looked over at him. "I'm glad to hear that."

Brad gave him the smallest of smiles. "No problem."

* * *

Once again, Trai talked Mark into letting her pay the cab fare. When they got out of the cab, Trai smiled at the sight of her aunt and uncle, sitting on the porch. Sensing Mark's nervousness, she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers in his. "C'mon, honey," she murmured into his ear, lightly kissing his neck. "It'll be fine." 

She led him up the walk and to the porch. Her aunt grinned and got up. "Tracy! How long has it been?"

"Two years, at least," Trai sighed, but smiled. "Hi, Aunt Becky." She let her aunt hug her close. "Uncle Allen?"

"Hey, kiddo," Allen smiled and hugged her too as she held her arms out. "And would this young man be the Mark I've heard so much about?"

"Yes, he would be. Mark, this is my aunt Rebecca and Uncle Allen; Aunt Becky and Uncle Allen, this is my fiancé, Mark Cohen."

"Fiancé?!" Becky gasped and pulled Trai into a tighter hug. "Oh, God, honey, that's wonderful! When's the wedding? Have you even started planning? I can help; I helped your mother—"

"Please slow down," Trai laughed. "And we wanted to wait… 'til after the baby's born," Trai explained shyly, a soft smile on her face.

Becky gave a delighted laugh. "Oh, you really aren't a kid anymore!"

"Congratulations, sweetheart," Allen smiled, then glanced at Mark. "I trust you're taking care of her?" he asked sternly.

"She means everything to me," Mark affirmed, squeezing her hand. "Really."

"Well, then, let's get you kids inside; Rosie's probably worried." Becky shooed them inside.

"Tracy! Mark! Finally here." Rosie kissed her daughter's cheek. "Happy Passover, kids. You look incredible, honey. And you, too, Mark."

"Thanks, Mrs. Buscemi."

"Call me Rosie," Trai's mother lightly admonished. "You're part of this family now."

"Is this the boyfriend?" a girl about his and Trai's age inquired as she came out of the kitchen, glancing at the stranger next to Trai.

"Fiancé, now. Mark, my cousin Lena; Lena, my fiancé Mark…"

The news of Trai's engagement and pregnancy spread like a wildfire. "The prodigal cousin returns," Lena teased her softly—having been absent from family gatherings for so long, Trai and her new love were the topic of conversation. There were dozens of questions—how long had they been together? What had happened to Jason? Were they excited for the baby? Did they know whether it was a boy or a girl? Did she have any books on the way?

Mark noticed that Rosie and Scott had not told anyone about the miscarriage, or why Trai had been absent from Hanukkah and Thanksgiving the year before. He was at least relieved that no one was looking at him askance or critically—he was already nervous enough. Everyone was being courteous and welcoming, and he relaxed somewhat. When they settled down for the meal, Mark took comfort in the familiarity of the Seder.

Trai volunteered to help serve the soup. She met her father in the kitchen; it had been a week or two since she'd spoken to him. "Hi, Daddy."

"Princess! C'mere." Her father pulled her into a close hug. "How are you feeling?"

"_So _much better. And your grandchild is absolutely fine," she laughed softly. "I'm doing great, Dad. I… God, half the time I feel like I'm floating. I'm happy."

Scott smiled. His daughter was very special to him—hearing she was happy meant a lot. "I'm glad. I really am."

Trai returned to the kitchen after serving the last of the soup, wanting to have a word with her dad. "I was thinking," she said softly. "If the baby's a boy… I want the middle name to be Leopold. Like yours."

Scott was touched. "Oh… sweetheart, you don't have to, really…"

"I want to," Trai said gently. "I… Dad, I'm sorry I haven't been speaking to you as much. Mom, she helps with all the pregnancy stuff, and after the miscarriage, I…" She hesitated. "Talking to you guys really hurt. Mom kind of knew what it was like, since it happened to her… b—but I felt like I'd… hurt you… I knew how much you wanted grandkids…"

Scott hugged her tightly. "Princess, I'm sorry… sorry I wasn't there for you more after you lost Grace. When Roger called, I was the one who picked up the phone… he said something had happened to you…" He closed his eyes. "Your mother told me how upset you were, and I didn't want to see you that way… I'm sorry…"

"It's okay," Trai whispered, "I wouldn't have wanted you to see me that way either… it really wasn't the greatest time for me."

"I can imagine. Well… I can't. But I'm here for you whenever you need me," he said gently. "Remember that, please."

"I will," she promised. She pulled away from his gentle embrace with a soft sigh. "Mark's probably wondering what's happened to me. We should get out there."

"That we should. Come on," Scott smiled, gently putting his hand on his daughter's back and leading her back outside.

Trai slid into her place next to Mark and put her hand on his, squeezing gently. "How you doing?" she whispered.

"They're not so bad," Mark whispered back, with a touch of relief in his voice.

"See? Told you," Trai said with a soft smile, kissing his cheek.

* * *

Late that night, when Mark was out getting some ice cream, the phone rang. Brad was in the shower, so despite the fact that Trai was half-asleep, she reached for the phone and yawned, "Hello?" once she'd picked it up. 

"Hey, love, it's me. I'm so sorry; did I wake you up?" Angie asked.

"Oh, no, it's fine." Trai sat up and stretched. "I'll always talk to you, you know that. What's up?"

Angie twirled a strand of wet hair, escaped from its loose knot atop her head, around her finger as she soaked in the tub. She was taking a hot bath, one with—she was not ashamed to admit—bubbles, which was part of her ritual for calming down after a bad week or a botched audition. She'd felt like she needed it, after the week she'd had wrestling with this decision. She wanted Trai's input—Trai was the romance writer, the one with the great imagination. "Nick and I… we've been getting really close; we've known each other for years… been on a lot of dates by now…"

"You want to have sex with him?" Trai asked, flat out. No point beating around the bush, and besides, she wrote erotica—it wasn't exactly a taboo subject to her.

Angie sighed. "Why do I feel like I'd be betraying Danny?"

"Sweetheart, didn't we have this talk? It's been sixteen months… _you can move on_. Whether or not you want to is a different story. But tell me this—do you love Nick?"

"I do," Angie whispered.

"Have you said this to him?"

"Yeah."

"And he's said it back?"

"Yes…"

"Can you see yourself with him for a while?"

"Yeah… yeah. I… I really can…"

"Then, there you go," Trai said gently. "If you love him, if he loves you, then honey, there is nothing more to ask. Danny would be happy to see _you_ happy, honey."

"With Mark… how did you know he was the right one?"

Trai closed her eyes, remembering. "Because with him… I knew it was… I knew it was _real_. Jason… I said I loved him once, and he never said it back. A week later, he raped me," she whispered, her eyes watering as she remembered that night, in her shower back home. The memory stung. "With Mark… I could feel it. I knew that he loved me, and I knew I loved him."

Angie thought this over, and realized that she felt the same way about Nick. Danny would always be in her heart, of course, but she loved Nick so much, and she really wanted things to go further.

"Thanks, Trai…"

"No problem. I'm happy for you," her best friend told her, massaging her side lightly to ease the baby's kicking. "I like Nick, and I'm glad you have someone. Really. You're in the bathtub, aren't you?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Ten years of knowing you, darling."

"Shit, has it been that long? Wow… Jesus, Trai, you're going to be a mom…"

"I know," Trai smiled softly, her fingers tracing the slightest curve of her stomach. "It's… it's surreal, is what it is. God, five more months and we're going to have a baby boy or girl…"

Angie had to smile at the happiness that was apparent in Trai's voice. She was so excited for Trai, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. Trai had her person in Mark—the person who made her happy, who took care of her when she was sick, who planned romantic evenings, who proposed and wanted children. For a very long time, Angie's person had been Danny, but now, if she and Nick decided to go further, Nick could be that for her. "I remember," Angie laughed, "that when we were in Dartmouth, you were so dead set against not having a family. Ethan always wanted kids if you guys lasted, and you told him no way in hell!"

"This is true," Trai laughed. "I really didn't want it back then. But I do now… God, so much."

"How's Brad doing?"

"Good. A lot better than a week ago. Tom has been helping him a lot."

"You think there's something there at all?"

"Maybe," Trai said, innocently. She'd thought about it. "I think they could work with each other. It's been… three years since Tom lost Angel? I think it might happen." She heard the water go off in the bathroom and told Angie, "Okay, he's about to get out of the shower; we'd better stop talking about him. I'll talk to you soon, sweetie, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks again, love."

"No problem." Trai hung up with Angie and headed to the bathroom, knocking on the door. "Brad? You need anything?"

The door opened and Brad came out with a towel around his waist, leaving a trail of steam behind him. "I'm fine. Mark back yet?"

"Nuh-uh. Finding decent mint chocolate chip at eight o'clock at night in this City is apparently hard to do. Whoops," she laughed.

Brad laughed and went into his room to change; he reemerged in a cream-colored long-sleeved shirt and flannel pants, settling down on the couch and patting the space beside him so Trai could sit down. Trai did, crossing her legs beneath her. "You're doing better, right?" she asked him softly.

Brad nodded. "I'm… more at ease with it now. Tom helps a lot."

"I can understand that," Trai nodded. "Having Mimi and Julia helped when I found out I was pregnant."

"Did you ever try going to a support group for your abuse?" Brad prodded carefully.

Trai shook her head. "Never wanted to talk about it… probably why I had nightmares," she sighed. "Mark took me to Life Support with him a few times."

"Collins mentioned that. I said I'd think about it."

"You should go," Trai said gently. "Talking helps. Much as I hate to admit it."

"I'll keep thinking it over. Not making any promises. I'll be out of here in like two more weeks, I promise."

"Oh, take your time. It's fine," Trai insisted. "It's nice having you here. Mark likes you, too."

"Good. He's still being good to you, right?" Brad asked sternly.

Trai laughed and nodded. "_Yes_. He's just… he's wonderful, Brad. We're just fine. Trust me."

"All that matters is that you're happy."

"I know. Same for you."

The door opened at that moment, and Mark returned from his excursion looking a little windswept, but holding a brown paper bag, triumphantly. "Your request is granted, my darling."

"Hallelujah! Knew there was a reason I agreed to marry you," Trai laughed, getting up and following him into the kitchen, setting the ice cream out to thaw. "Now, what do you say to a little TV or something, ice cream, then bed?"

"Your wish is my command," Mark teased lightly, putting his arm around her waist and leading her out to the couch.

Trai sighed contentedly as the three of them sat on the couch, her head resting on Mark's shoulder and her feet on the coffee table, Brad by her side and laughing for the first time in weeks as they watched _Saturday Night Live._ She smiled a bit and licked her spoon clean, thinking that for now, just for this moment, her world could not be any more perfect.

* * *

**A/N- Dear God. I say I'll never ever do this, and then I do. I left you guys for more than a month!! I am SO sorry, but, like I said last time, the SATs came and I have had ****a _ton_ of school stuff to do. Urgh. I'll try to churn out my updates faster, girls! Sorry!**

**For anyone interested, I put a list in my profile of the actors and actresses I envision my OCs as. (The Photobucket links were being bitches, otherwise I'd've given specific pictures. I'll work on that, promise.)**

**To all of you who suspected Brad/Collins, yes, it is coming. The next few chapters will also focus a little more on the other couples—Roger/Mimi, Collins/Brad, Maureen/Joanne, Davey/Julia, Angie/Nick, and Micah/Erica, hopefully.**

**Diva Actress- My cooking knowledge is sorely lacking, haha! (Trai is unlike me in that she possesses cooking skills.) And heh, "Mein Herr" is the song I love to sing when I'm alone (my personal favorite of Sally's is "Perfectly Marvelous," though).**

**Srgirl6889- Thanks! Yep, can understand about not updating for a few weeks… obviously. Myself, I hate Physics completely.**

**Readerfreak10- Thank you!**

**NotEASYbeingGREEN- Haha, aww, thank you. And I would probably be **_**exactly**_** like Trai if I ever get pregnant—I hate to be worried about! I'm glad you like Brad, though. He will get some happiness, do not worry.**

**Stephanie Pascal- Thank you!**

**Birdhearted- Trai and Brad are both getting better, as you can see in this chapter. And Brad will find happiness!**

**0xRENTxOZxHeadx0- Thanks!**

**Scififreakmi- Part of my evil plan Brad is not, but regardless, I'm glad you like him:) **

**Tina101- Yep, Brad and Collins will be together in the future. It's only like my second time writing a gay male couple, so… it could get interesting, haha!**

**Sundrynotes- Your review made me smile, haha! I got the idea for Brad the first time or so that I watched **_**The Birdcage**_**; I had Trai mention him very briefly in LFR and then wanted to bring him in here. He's also partially inspired by two of my guy friends—one gay, the other bisexual, both AMAZING.**

**Wicked4rent- I normally don't read fics—not enough time in the day—but if I have time I really will try to read yours, promise! Thank you so much! And nope, not the end—the plan for this involves twenty chapters and a third story, so do not despair!**

**Midnightpopcorn- There will be Collins/Brad, but it will be taken **_**very**_** slow at first. Unfortunately due to school I haven't been reading as much as I'd like, so **_**Twilight**_** was put on the backburner while I studied for the SATs (and now the ACTs, oh how joyous), but I **_**will**_** get back to it. Eventually…**

**Mrs. James Harold Potter- Well, I'm not exactly elaborating on what will happen with Trai and the pregnancy—you'll just have to wait and see. Hehe :) As for Roger, occasionally, when an HIV-positive patient's been taking the same meds long enough, their body builds up a resistance, and the medication doesn't work anymore. So, the person has to switch meds, and from what I've been told by some AIDS patients I met over the summer, it is not the most pleasant experience in the world.**

**Very very sorry about the slowness of this update, my lovelies. More hopefully coming soon!**

**Cheers,**

**- Sally.**


	8. So Unsexy

"_**How these little abandonments seem to sting so easily/I'm 13 again, am I 13 for good?/I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful/So unloved for someone so fine/I can feel so boring for someone so interesting/So ignorant for someone of sound mind/Oh these little protections how they fail to serve me/One forgotten phone call and I'm deflated/Oh these little defenses how they fail to comfort me/Your hand pulling away and I'm devastated…"**__**  
**_

— "**So Unsexy"  
****Alanis Morissette

* * *

**

Chapter Eight  
So Unsexy

As much as Trai hated to be worried about, Mark found that he could not help feeling concern for her as April turned to May. Now in her fifth month, it was visible to everyone that she was pregnant, and the changes in her body didn't do much to help Trai's already low opinion of her image.

Mark had the feeling that there was more to what was bothering her than that, but she was still starting to pull away from him—shrugging out of his embrace when they were in bed, undressing and changing in the bathroom so he wouldn't see. He longed to ask her what was wrong, but he knew at least part of it—the day she would have been due with Grace was approaching.

Last May, Trai had also been pulling away from him, albeit for different reasons. Still, remembering how it had gone on for at least three weeks the last time, Mark didn't want it to happen again. He was trying—honestly, he was—but she wasn't letting him in.

She came home from work one evening upset, and went straight to their room. Brad was in the kitchen helping Mark prepare dinner, and gave Mark a worried glance. "She's been like this more and more lately."

"I know," Mark sighed. "It doesn't help that she would have had Grace next week."

Brad winced and nodded. Trai had finally told him about the miscarriage a few nights after their conversation on the couch. "Do you want to talk to her? Or let me try?"

"No… I think we should just leave her alone… it's how she likes to be," Mark said, not liking it, but determined to give her the space she wanted. He took his frustration out on the eggs he was cracking to make omelettes, which were pretty much the only things he could make without the risk of the building being evacuated.

Trai didn't come out even after his and Brad's quiet pleas for her to have dinner, and Mark took his time washing the dishes, watching _Jeopardy!_ with Brad but not really listening to the TV. During one of the commercials he checked the clock—it was 7:15, nearly an hour and forty-five minutes since she'd come home. He decided to try and talk to her.

He got up and went to the door to the bedroom, easing open the door. "Trai? Baby?"

Trai kept her back to him. "Please go away," she whispered, closing her eyes.

"Trai, tell me what's wrong, please," he pleaded, sitting down on the bed and reaching out to stroke her hair, feeling hurt when she inched away from his hand. "I hate seeing you like this when you won't let me help."

"I don't need help, Mark," Trai said quietly.

"Are… are you sure?"

Trai didn't answer, which Mark took to mean a yes, even if he didn't like it. With a sigh, he left the bedroom.

He returned again at eleven o'clock, thinking Trai would be asleep—she'd been going to bed earlier since it was good for the baby, and also because waitressing exhausted her—but, to his surprise, she was still awake. He undressed quietly and put his shirt and jeans in the hamper, before sliding into bed next to her and putting a hand on her shoulder, to try again. "Trai, are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," Trai repeated morosely.

"You don't sound fine."

Trai turned her face into her pillow. "I don't like the way I look," she finally admitted, though she'd said this before. "I hate the way people look at me now."

"They look at you," Mark said gently, "because you look wonderful. Honestly, Trai. You're more beautiful now than I've ever seen you. Happier, too."

"Stop telling me I'm beautiful. Stop. I look gross."

"Turn around. Face me," Mark tried, wanting to get her to look at him. Even without his glasses on, he could still tell from the way she was curled into herself that she was upset. "What else is wrong?" he tried to prod, though he knew.

"I wish we had Grace," Trai whispered numbly. "I… I love the baby, don't get me wrong… but I wish I'd… I wish we'd…"

She wasn't able to get the words out, and she settled for finally turning to him, burying her face in his chest. For the first time in weeks, she let him wrap his arms around her, enfolding her in his strong embrace. He held her tight, letting her cry softly into his shoulder.

He soothed her very softly, kissing her when she would let him and using words when she would not. When she was worn out from crying, lying quietly in his arms, he whispered softly into her ear, "Try to get some sleep, okay?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered shakily.

"Shh… don't ever think you're wrong for doing that," he whispered, firmly. "It's perfectly fine. I can't help you if you don't let me know what's wrong."

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he said gently, stroking her hair softly to help her fall asleep. When her breathing evened out and he was sure she was fast asleep, he gently released her from his embrace and grabbed the phone, slipping out of bed and into the living room.

It was past midnight by now, but Mark's mother was used to getting his phone calls late at night, since they were trying to keep Trai's pregnancy a secret, and these were the only times his father was not able to hear. When the phone rang, Jane reached for it immediately, keeping one eye on her husband as she answered with a hushed, "Mark?"

"It's me, Mom. How are you?"

"Fine, fine," Jane told him quietly as she left the bedroom and went downstairs to the kitchen. "Yourself?"

"I'm okay. Trai's… well, not at her best."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jane said, empathizing. "What is it?"

"Well, for one thing, she's never had the strongest opinion of herself when it comes to the way she looks, so she's really stressed out about gaining weight, all that. And she… she would have had Grace this week," Mark said finally, with an effort, "if she'd carried to term."

Jane's heart sank. "Oh… oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry, I never realized… are you all right?"

"It's… hard. It is. I try not to think about it… I don't want to, when we have to focus on the baby right now. But she's taking it pretty hard. I know how scared she is, and how she still feels like she should have done something."

"I can see why she would," Jane sighed, wishing more than anything that it hadn't happened. She felt horrible about what her husband had said to Trai, and that he continued to dislike her even now, when he even acknowledged her existence at all.

"Is there anything you could tell me to do? Anything to help her?"

"I don't know much about how to help with losing Grace, but the best thing to do about her opinion of herself is to keep reassuring her, which I'm sure you've been doing. Make sure she feels beautiful. Take her shopping if you'd like; buy her some nice things. She'd like that. Give her as much attention as you can without being stifling."

"Something she'd kill me for," Mark laughed softly. "Thanks, Mom."

"It's no problem. I remember how hard it was. The doctor said everything's okay with the baby, right?"

"Yeah," Mark nodded, smiling. "The baby's just… just great. He—or she; we don't want to know yet—is _perfect,_ Mom. Absolutely perfect," he whispered, brushing at his eyes a little.

Jane could hear her son's voice catch the slightest bit, and felt the pride and love in her own heart. As much as their relationship had been strained in years previous, they'd mended somewhat once he'd fallen in love with Trai, and she was happy that Mark had finally found someone he loved, that he was finally going to have children of his own—something she'd thought would never happen. "Are you happy, sweetie?" she asked gently, even though she was sure of the answer.

"I am," Mark whispered. "God, I am. She's… I can't even believe how amazing she is. She agreed to marry me, she's going to have our baby… _our baby_… it's just all so surreal."

Jane smiled. "I'm glad you're happy. Call me if you need any help with the wedding, okay? And tell Trai that I'd be glad to help her with any of the baby shopping."

"I will," Mark promised. "I love you, Mom."

"Love you, too, honey. Good night."

Jane had barely hung up the phone when a voice from behind her said flatly, "Maybe it's me, but I believe I just heard the name of our son's sex kitten and the word 'baby' in the same sentence."

Jane turned sharply. "Samuel."

Her husband was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his expression perfectly blank, but inwardly enraged. His lips pressed into a thin line, he asked, with practiced coldness, "How long have you been keeping this from me?"

"Sam—"

"_Tell me how long, Jane._"

With a regretful sigh, Jane admitted, "Three months."

"They're keeping it?"

"Of course," Jane said harshly. "It's your grandchild, Samuel. At least try to care!"

"He should _not_ be fucking her!" Samuel said angrily. "She is not good enough for this family!"

"She is the _only_ woman I have _ever_ seen him care about this much!" Jane retorted angrily. "Sam, she means everything to him! They're getting _married_, they're having a _baby_! In case you haven't noticed, Mark's a grown man! He can make decisions without us there—_including_ who he wants to spend his life with!"

"Because ex-junkies, faggots, and _whores_ are the company you want _our son_ to be around?!" Sam exclaimed in fury.

"She isn't a whore! She is a perfectly polite, intelligent, caring young woman! You should be _glad_ Mark chose someone like her!"

"Fat chance," Samuel huffed indignantly. "When is she due?"

Jane refused to answer. Samuel stalked closer. "Jane, if you don't tell me, I swear to fucking—"

"Four months," Jane said coldly. "If you threaten her, Samuel, I will not hesitate to call the cops. You are not hurting her more than you already have."

"I am going to tell this to Cindy and Greg," Samuel said tightly, "and we are going to discuss this. Whether you want me to or not, I am going to Mark's at the earliest opportunity, and we are going to have dinner. I am going to make it perfectly clear that he is not to come to us for anything. The family is not going to know of this… this _mistake_," he said bitterly.

The insult to her almost-daughter-in-law and her unborn grandchild made Jane furious. "Whatever you tell them, Samuel, you should know that I'm not going to listen. They are a part of this family whether you like it or not. Tracy is not a mistake; she is your daughter-in-law. And their child is your grandson or granddaughter."

"I. Refuse. To Have Anything. To Do. With _HER_," Samuel snarled, before stalking up the stairs and slamming the door to the bedroom behind him.

* * *

With Samuel watching her like a hawk to ensure she did not try to contact Mark, Jane did not have any way of informing him of his father's intent, which dismayed her. She knew how much stress Samuel had put Trai under last time, and did not want her to go through that again, but it seemed like she had no choice. 

Though Trai was gradually getting better, it was very slow going, and she was definitely not her old self. Still, Mark persisted with astonishing tenacity on his mother's advice. Thus, Saturday morning found him coaxing and pleading with Trai to come shopping with him.

"C'mon, please?" he pleaded, kneeling on the bed, gently rubbing her shoulder as she lay on her side, her eyes shut tight as she tried to tune him out. "Trai, I want you to come. I don't want to do the shopping alone."

"Then ask Mimi or Roger. Hell, ask Brad. He's gay; he's got a better eye for color than I do."

"But I want _you_ to come," Mark repeated. "It's our baby, Trai. I want you to help me with this."

"Can't I stay home?" Trai begged. "Mark, I don't want to go out. Not like this."

"Put on makeup or something, if you want. Or wear a big sweatshirt, if you're embarrassed. Just please come," Mark gently wheedled. "It's not just for the baby, either. You, too. I'll buy you anything you want, promise. And don't care about the money like you always do. I have it covered, I swear."

At length, when Trai realized that he wasn't going to give it up, she finally got him out of the room, locking the door before she undressed and changed. She pulled on a dark red, long-sleeved shirt and her most comfortable jeans, then pulled her big, well-worn Dartmouth sweatshirt over it all, which effectively hid her belly. Knowing this was one of the last few weeks she'd fit into her old clothes, she grimaced at the thought of maternity clothes as she kneeled to grab her purse from the floor. She tried to block out the thought that there was somewhere else she could have been at this moment—_in the delivery room, in labor, with Mark probably alternating between having his hand broken and looking rather pale, camera in his free hand the whole damn time…_

She shook herself out of the reverie, trying to remind herself that it wasn't worth it to dwell on it, that Grace was gone and never would be back. Trai leaned against the wall for a moment, shutting her eyes and resting her hand gently on her stomach, before finally opening the door and coming outside.

Mark jumped up from the couch, clearly delighted and relieved; she'd taken so long he'd worried she'd changed her mind. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Trai told him quietly, not objecting when he slipped his arm around her waist, but clearly a little uncomfortable with the contact. He led her down the street and treated her to breakfast at their favorite diner, ignoring her objections about the cost and finally ordering her favorite for her and silencing her with the argument that it was only because he cared about her and wanted to see her happy. She ate her breakfast dutifully—he knew the offer of food was one thing she wouldn't turn down once it was in front of her; after all, she _was_ eating for two—and looked like she really did like the French toast and fruit, which was all he could ask. After they'd eaten, he gently took her hand and took her to the mall.

Mark kept an eye on her as they walked through the store with all the things for the baby, knowing that this was one of her favorite places to be, but also knowing it would be difficult for her, just as it was for him, with Grace's would-have-been due date approaching. Still, her passive expression brightened into the smallest of smiles as he held up a stuffed green-and-blue elephant. "This," he proclaimed, "has to be one of the oddest color schemes I have ever seen for a stuffed animal. But it is strangely cute."

"I agree," Trai laughed a little, stepping closer to him and taking the elephant into her own hands. "Though I don't quite want to know what country of the world actually _has_ blue-and-green elephants."

"No countries, probably; just people on strong hallucinogens…"

The clerk passing by smiled as he overheard their conversation, and stopped to ask them if they needed help. "Do you two need anything?"

"We're fine," Trai said before Mark could speak, her smile radiantly beautiful. It was the first time she'd volunteered to speak for the last few days.

"Is this going to be your first child?"

"Yes," the two of them answered simultaneously, then laughed. Mark hugged her close to him with one arm.

"You must be excited, then. How far along are you?"

"Five months. So much damn chaos about telling people we haven't had time for shopping!"

The clerk laughed. "Holler if you need anything, okay?"

"We will," Mark promised, then smiled at Trai as he left. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Trai slowly nodded. "About my body, no. About the baby, though, a—and Grace… yeah. I think so. A little."

"Well, we'll make a believer in your gorgeousness out of you yet," Mark teased softly, nuzzling her cheek gently before guiding her, freakishly colored elephant in hand, to the clothes section.

Though neither of them were the greatest at shopping, Trai had done this many a time with her cousins, aunts, and Mimi, and thus had a lot of fun. Mark did as well, though just seeing her smiling and laughing was enough to put his heart at ease. They went from store to store, shopping and talking, and emerged after some serious shopping with three bags of clothes, some necessities such as bottles and pacifiers, and the aforementioned acid-trip-inspired stuffed elephant.

"Now I think it's time we did some shopping for you," Mark reminded her as they came out of the last baby store.

"I'm fine," Trai tried to insist. "I don't need anything."

"It's not what you _need_, it's whatever you _want_. Trai, I don't care if I have to drag you to every store in this mall, I am _going_ to get you some things for yourself whether you like it or not."

"Have I ever mentioned that you are one stubborn, scrawny, glasses-wearing man?"

"Once or twice, yes. I'll disregard the 'scrawny' part. Now. Resign yourself to this quickly or my prediction about dragging you will come true."

"Honey, you seem to be neglecting the fact that my life revolves around four things—you, writing, reading, and the baby. There's nothing that I need," Trai insisted.

"Trai," Mark said warningly, but playfully, grabbing her hand and starting to lead her through the mall, intent on doing something nice for her—something to get her mind off Grace, at least for a few hours. He liked to think he knew enough of what she liked to make her happy. They'd only been going out for a little less than a year and a half, but that didn't matter—he loved her more than anything, and the only thing he wanted was to see her happy.

Though Trai put up a fight, Mark bought her some books, some lotions and body washes since he knew she liked those, and a few small things that he knew she enjoyed. Trai didn't want him spending money, but he noticed that she was smiling a lot more—she was feeling better.

When they got home, they found a note from Brad telling them that he was out with Collins, yet again. Neither of them were calling it dating, but Trai and Mark just smiled and shook their heads, feeling very much like parents whose birds had flown the nest.

Mark ran a bath for Trai so that she could have a soak, promising to be in to sit with her, like always, as soon as he checked the answering machine.

He didn't like what he heard.

With both the door and her eyes closed, Trai was soaking calmly in the water, both her hands resting on her belly, having lit a candle, something she did occasionally when she needed a hot bath. When she heard the door to the bathroom open and then close again, she opened her eyes to look at Mark, smiling a little. Her face fell in concern as she noticed his expression. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Mark sighed as he sank onto the floor, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the bathroom. "My father," he said carefully, "called while we were out."

Trai paled. "What did he want?" she whispered.

"To have dinner. With us. Tomorrow."

Trai shut her eyes, the tight feeling in her chest that alerted her to a panic attack already building. Mark's father scared her—he reminded her of Jason. He'd called her a whore, had probably wanted to slap her once or twice. He didn't even know that she'd lost a child, mostly because of the stress he'd caused her.

Mark heard the change in her breathing and immediately reached into the water, grabbing her hands. "Look at me, okay? Open your eyes and look at me," he told her, moving closer to the side of the tub.

Trai slowly opened her eyes and held his gaze, trying to breathe deeply.

"I won't let him touch you," he promised, in a whisper, touching her cheek softly and leaning in to kiss her.

Trai kissed him back, but the panicked feeling still remained. "Mark, he scares me," she managed to get out. "He scares me so fucking much…"

"I know he does… I know, baby, and I'm sorry… my dad is an asshole, and you know I wish you didn't have to see him. I can tell him you're not feeling well," he tried. "You can ask Brad or Roger to take you somewhere. Anywhere. I'll give them the money—"

"No," Trai whispered. "No, I… I should be here… he'll think even worse of me if I'm not…"

"I don't care what he thinks of you," Mark whispered, smoothing her hair away from her face. "I care what you think about yourself. Are you sure you can do this?"

"No. But I have to," Trai told him quietly.

* * *

Mark spent the entire night wide awake, holding Trai close as she slept, pressed close into his body for comfort, warmth, protection—everything he wanted to give her, just when he was unsure if he could. He hadn't protected her from his father twice before—he didn't know if he'd be able to do it now. 

He kissed the nape of her neck softly, not wanting to wake her, then looked over at her nightstand and felt his heart lift a little. She'd put the elephant there for now, since she thought it was cute, and because it served as a small reminder—not that she needed one—of the life that was growing inside her every day. She'd placed it right next to the picture of her and Mark that Roger had taken eleven months before.

At seven o'clock in the morning, Mark decided it was a decent hour to actually get up and make coffee, so he reached over and shut off Trai's alarm clock, wanting to let her sleep in. He dressed and stepped out into the living room, and found, to his surprise, Brad already up, with a cup of coffee in hand.  
"Brad," he said, surprised. "It's early."

"I'm up at five," Brad admitted, a little sheepishly. "Always was a bit of an insomniac. I run in the mornings," he explained, gesturing to his sweatsuit, "or at least I used to. Figured it was… time to get back into things."

"That's good," Mark smiled encouragingly as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "That's really good. I'm sure Trai would be happy."

"Is she all right?" Brad asked, concerned. "She was acting a little weird at dinner yesterday."

Mark sighed. "I took her shopping. It worked—she was happy. And then we come home and find my dad's message on our answering machine. He's coming here tonight for dinner—and he's really, really dead set against me breaking up with Trai."

Brad exhaled slowly. "That's rough," he said, with a wince. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't really think so. Trai thinks she can handle it, and if she says she can, then I think she will. You might want to stay out of the way, though… my dad really doesn't approve of any of my friends, either."

Brad nodded slowly, remembering experiences he'd had in the past—working at cabarets and various gay bars hadn't showed him the greatest side of human nature, and he'd been targeted more than once. "I'm sure everything will turn out fine," he encouraged, squeezing Mark's shoulder.

"If that were true," Mark sighed, "I wouldn't be worried."

The knock at the door came when Trai was taking a nap in their bedroom. Once again, Mark was sitting up, watching her, stroking her hair gently. He kissed the top of her head gently—to calm his nerves—before going out and taking a deep breath before opening the door and saying, in what he hoped was a calm tone, "Dad."

"Mark." His father did not say anything more, just stepped past him into the loft, followed by Greg. Cindy gave her younger brother a hug that was not so much warm as it was expected and perfunctory. Last of all was Jane, who gave Mark a regretful look and pulled him into a tight hug, clearly saying, _I'm sorry._

Mark carefully shut the door. "I can… order a pizza or something, if you guys want…"

Samuel was looking around the loft, his expression clearly disapproving. "Where is she?" he asked flatly. "I want her out here."

"Please don't be too loud. She's sleeping right now; she's had a really rough day," Mark told him, almost pleading. He was hoping that Trai would sleep through the whole thing.

Samuel was about to say something else when Mark felt someone squeeze his shoulder. He turned to find Trai standing behind him, dressed in her most formal, and most flattering, clothes, with a pleading expression, as if to say, _don't make it worse._ Mark loosely wrapped his hand in hers and squeezed.

"Sorry about all that," she told Mark's family, with a slightly strained smile. "Just a little worn out from waitressing."

"How do you like it?" Jane asked pleasantly, determined to at least make conversation, so that this whole fiasco would be slightly less awkward. She hated what Samuel was putting them through.

"It's not the greatest, but it actually pays pretty well, and the people are nice," Trai smiled a little, settling down in a chair by the coffee table and tucking her legs under her. She wore a blouse that was loose enough to hide her stomach and a comfortable floor-length skirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, with the right amount of makeup to make it look like she wasn't trying too hard. Still, her hands had been sweating when Mark had held them—she was nervous.

Mark kept a close eye on everyone as he ordered the pizza in the kitchen. Trai was trying to hide her anxiety, keeping up general chatter with his mother, though she was obviously uncomfortable, due to the combination of Mark's family and the minor discomforts of pregnancy. Wanting to at least alleviate some of that, Mark sat beside her when he emerged from the kitchen, gently rubbing her aching back for her. She gave him a small smile and gently put her hand on his leg.

"When are you due?" Cindy asked tersely, eying her little brother's fiancée critically.

"First week of September," Trai said, a little quieter than normal. She knew that Cindy and Greg were almost as bad as Mark's father, and it stung—she'd really liked Cindy's kids, and they'd liked her.

"And how do you suppose that waitressing and tech support will be enough to support a child?" Samuel asked, a little flatly.

"It's only temporary," Mark began.

"I'm looking into other things," Trai added. "With my degree, I can teach, and I can go into editing as well. My agent's been coming up with projects I might be interested in writing, too."

"I want," Samuel said to them, carefully, "to make this very clear, right now. I do not want any part in your child's life. I do not want you coming to this family for anything, Mark. I don't want to hear about your wedding. I don't want to hear about the birth. Do you understand me?"

Mark was about to say something, but Trai had already gotten up, walking to the window, her eyes burning, clearly upset. Before he could think of anything to say, Trai turned back to face everyone and said quietly, "Y'know, I was hoping, maybe you'd actually start to accept the fact that Mark and I are staying together. Maybe you'd actually feel, I don't know, _happy_ that you were going to have another grandchild. Maybe you'd tell us congratulations. But I didn't think you would. Because despite the fact that your son—my fiancé—is an adult and can make his own damn decisions, you seem to feel that you can control his life—who he falls in love with. And here's something new to you, apparently—you can't. I don't even care anymore if you don't like me, or if you don't want anything to do with our baby. As far as I'm concerned, that's just fine. I don't want our child to be anywhere near someone like you."

With that, Trai went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her and lying down on the bed, pressing her hand to her head. She didn't know what had come over her—probably the same hormones that had made her lash out at Mark a few weeks before. She knew that Mark's father probably hated her even more now, but she really didn't care. Mark was the only one who mattered to her.

When the food came, everyone ate in silence. Mark's father, Cindy, and Greg left without a word, but Jane stayed behind, putting a hand on Mark's shoulder and saying softly, "Mark, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Mark sighed. "I didn't think we'd be able to hide it very long, anyway."

"Tell Trai I think she was perfectly justified. Actually, I'm glad she said what she did," Jane smiled a little.

Mark managed to laugh. "She hasn't had much trouble with speaking her mind lately."

There was a brief silence. Jane gently squeezed his shoulder again and told him, "Mark, I hope you know that no matter what your father says, I will always be here for you and Trai. If there's ever anything you need, I promise I'll help you somehow to get it."

"I know, Mom. Thank you," Mark said quietly. "You don't know how much it means to me. To Trai, too."

"I'll call in a few days, okay?" his mother said gently.

"Okay. Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome. I love you, honey."

"Love you too, Mom." Mark hugged her and saw her out.

* * *

A few days after the visit, Brad thanked them graciously and moved out, with their help. On Collins' invitation, he was taking an apartment in a building near to the NYU campus, where Collins stayed. When Trai asked him, Brad admitted, somewhat hesitantly, that there was an attraction, but after Justin's betrayal, he was having difficulty adjusting to the idea of another relationship. Thus, they were taking it slowly. 

Trai gently shut the door behind Brad and headed into her room, where Brad had been staying, knowing that Brad had cleaned up but figuring she'd put some of her stuff in order. She checked the bottom drawer of her dresser, which was empty, but stopped when she opened the third drawer, suddenly closing her eyes. She'd forgotten.

She leaned her head against the dresser and sighed. She'd kept this from him for the past eight months... she wanted to tell him now.

"Mark?" she called quietly.

"Yeah, baby?" he asked, appearing in the doorway almost instantly. "Is there something wrong?" He could tell she looked upset.

"Can I… Mark, can I show you something?" Trai asked hesitantly. "I—I don't know if it'll be too much… but I want you to know…"

"Of course," Mark said gently, concerned. He sat on the floor and watched as she reached into the dresser drawer and pulled out a pink blanket and a teddy bear.

She held the teddy bear as she spoke, closing her eyes. "My mom and I talked the day after I lost Grace," she whispered, "and she told me that when she miscarried, it helped her to go to a support group.

"You—you went to Life Support one day, and I… went to this… this group for women who'd been through pregnancy loss."

Mark was surprised she'd kept this from him, but this was understandable—they'd both attempted to cope on their own, not that it had worked, but they'd also kept a lot from each other.

"I was the one there who was the most recent. All of the women had already been coping for months, some of them for years… some of them were trying to conceive again… they were all really focused on helping me.

"The meeting was… hard. Half the time, I was crying. After the meeting, one of the counselors, Anna, gave me these. She said that sometimes it helped to have these if… if you wanted to remember," Trai whispered. "I didn't remember I had them until now… God, I would've been due this week…"

Mark reached out and pulled her close into her arms, holding her tight. He didn't say a word, just prayed to God to protect her and their baby, to help Trai to be happy.

"Are you mad at me for not telling you?"

"No… no," he soothed. "Never. You were upset, and we weren't talking the way we should've been. I understand… shh… I understand…"

"I—I couldn't go back there… but I kept these; they made me feel better…"

She closed her eyes and leaned against his chest, holding the teddy bear close; clearly, it gave her comfort. "Do you want to be alone?" Mark asked her softly.

"No… stay, please," Trai whispered, looking up at him. "I want you to stay…"

"Okay," Mark whispered, "okay."

He stayed.

* * *

**A/N- Ughhh. Yet again, real life intervened-- thus, no writing for me! I promise that once my ACTs are out of the way, I will try to update more!!**

**Since my life is one big karmic circle, the universe decided to play "Some Things Are Meant to Be," arguably the saddest song in the whole of _Little Women, _as I was writing the end of this chapter. I hate my life :)**

**sundrynotes- Hehe, thanks :) I love the song, too. Thought it was fitting!**

**srgirl6889- Unfortunately this update took a little long too, but I've had to do lovely things like preparing for college. Joy and unspeakable rapture.**

**Tina101- Like I said, life intervened, but I WILL update more frequently!**

**Diva Actress- Haha, with my love for _The Princess Bride, _it was not going to escape a mention! It will show up later :)**

**scififreakmi- Thanks! I really do enjoy writing the scenes between Trai and her dad; no idea why. I'm glad you liked it!**

**Stephanie Pascal- Aaah! I love "If You Could See Her!" One of my favorite songs in the show. And thank you very much!**

**wicked4rent- Thanks!**

**Birdhearted- Haha, I'll probably do that to my husband in real life come the future...**

**notEASYbeingGREEN- I personally adore writing Trai's interactions with Lauren, so I'm glad you like them. (Trai and Lauren will be particularly close in the third story, which takes place when the kids are teenagers.) And, if you like openness between them, then I hope you liked this chapter :)**

**Mrs. James Harold Potter- Aww, thanks, Sara! And Trai's family is partly based on my dad's side of my own family. Very loud, very Jewish, and they will probably do the same thing to any boyfriends I ever bring home!**

**Midnightpopcorn- Thanks! Haven't had much time to read lately, but I will likely finish Twilight over my Christmas break. All my friends are pressuring me, haha!**

**Thanks for the support, my loves. Next update soon, hopefully!**

**- Sally.**


	9. You Learn

"_**I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone/I recommend walking around naked in your living room/Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)/It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)/Wait until the dust settles/You live, you learn/You love, you learn/You cry, you learn/You lose, you learn/You bleed, you learn/You scream, you learn…"**__**  
**_  
— "**You Learn"  
****Alanis Morissette**

* * *

Chapter Nine  
You Learn

Mimi had to smile as she watched her husband and her daughter. Now that a month had passed since Roger had switched medications, he was feeling much better, and was back to his old self. He was even more enamored with playing with Lauren. As of late, their baby girl was continually amazing them—she'd started to take her first, faltering steps; could speak in her own little gibberish; even loved to hear the music Roger played or Mimi danced to. Mimi was delighted that Lauren was also beginning to dance.

Roger picked up his daughter and tickled her gently, his smile growing as Lauren laughed. "She's as beautiful as you are," he sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of Mimi's head.

"Of course," Mimi joked, with a laugh, "and she's just as amazing as her _papi_. God, I can't even wait for Trai and Mark to have this. Rachel will be walking soon, too," she added, remembering that there were only three months or so between Lauren and Rachel.

"I don't doubt Mark and Trai will be great. They love Lauren and Rachel already, and they're so damn excited about the baby."

"Ba-ba!" Lauren interjected delightedly. Roger just smiled and shook his head, sitting down on the couch next to his wife.

"Did Mark tell you about Brad and Collins?"

"Yeah. I think it's great. Collins needed someone," Roger sighed, remembering Angel. "Brad's a good guy. I think they'll work out."

"He's a sweetheart," Mimi nodded. "I like him a lot. I think Angel would've, too." As much as she missed her good friend, Mimi also wanted Collins to be happy again, something she was sure Angel would have wanted. Brad seemed like the perfect person to take care of that wish.

As they talked, they watched Lauren, who was absolutely the most precious thing in the world to them. Roger was glad their daughter had been spared the disease, and Mimi was as well. Even better was that Lauren was getting on just fine.

Mimi softly stroked Lauren's soft blond hair as Roger held her. She started to hand Lauren her teddy bear—a gift from Trai and Mark shortly after the birth—when Lauren clapped her hands and exclaimed, with a slight mispronunciation, "Bwear!"

Mimi looked at Roger. "Did she just—?"

"Bear? I think so," Roger grinned, taking the teddy bear and placing it in Lauren's hands, kissing her tiny forehead. "God, I can't even… this is just… amazing…"

"I know," Mimi said softly, stroking Lauren's cheek gently, thinking of how Trai and Mark would be going through this all next year. "I know."

* * *

The end of May was getting to be stiflingly hot, and there was no denying it. Trai and Mark were relaxing that afternoon, waiting for Roger, Mimi, and Lauren to join them for lunch.

Fanning herself with a magazine, Trai sat on the couch next to Mark, stretching out her legs a little and wincing. He took her legs and pulled them into his lap, gently massaging them for her—she'd been getting legs cramps recently, from both being on her feet so much and what Dr. Montgomery had assured them was all a normal part of pregnancy.

"Mmm, thank you," Trai sighed, leaning her head back against the couch and closing her eyes. "You know, in a couple months, I won't be able to see my feet. It kind of sucks."

"But you're putting up with it, which is what counts."

"True. My legs are still killing me, but it's not so bad when you massage." She stretched out so that she was lying down and rested her hands on her stomach.

"Have you asked Michelle at all if she can keep you off your feet?"

"She's been starting to bug me about it. I think I can keep going for another few weeks."

"Trai, really, bring it down a notch, please."

"I will! In a month or two," Trai promised.

"You're almost six months pregnant, Trai. You need to take a break sooner than that."

"And I'm sure that if you keep on me about it, I will. Just let me keep going for a bit more. I have too much damned energy not to." Trai opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. "And if you mention the words 'bed rest,' I swear I will kill you."

"Then I won't mention those words. What I will mention is that you are going to take a break from working even if it kills you."

"You don't want to kill me; I _am_ carrying your child," Trai reminded him. She sat up and kissed him on the lips. "Your lips still taste like chocolate." She'd been teaching him how to make brownies earlier that morning, having promised to teach him how to cook one day.

Mark smiled and deepened the kiss. "I guess that's a good thing, huh?"

"Mm-hmm." Trai wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. The embrace was a little awkward due to her stomach, but Mark didn't mind—it was being close to her that mattered.

After a few more moments, Trai broke the kiss and laid her head on his shoulder. "Good news, Morrie called. He's sending the advances of _Darcy_ my way."

"That's great! How'd the high-and-mightys like it?"

"A lot, surprisingly. Hopefully the critics feel the same way. Maybe it's an idealistic view of married life, but it's not like you and I fight much, so I didn't have much to go on."

"I guess I'm glad." Mark kissed her again. "I think you're better than you give yourself credit for."

"You're my fiancé. I think the rules say you have to say that," Trai remarked.

"It's not that," Mark insisted. "I thought you were great even before I fell in love with you."

"If you say so." She pulled his arm towards her and checked his watch. "It's almost twelve-thirty. Aren't they supposed to be here already?"

"'Supposed to' being the operative word, my love. Roger's concept of time isn't the grea—"

"I can read a clock, Cohen," Roger informed him as he came into the loft, Lauren held in his arms, Mimi close behind. "We're on time!"

"For once," Trai quipped, laughing. She got up and hugged Roger and Mimi, smiling at Lauren. "And how's the little princess?"

"Your niece just said her first word," Mimi announced proudly.

"Really?" Mark asked, astonished but grinning widely as he came to stand behind his fiancée. Trai squealed, "Oh my God!" As if knowing the attention was on her, Lauren giggled.

"Yes she did. It was 'bear,' thanks to that teddy bear you got here last year," Mimi smiled.

"That's amazing, guys," Mark laughed softly, still in disbelief, as he wrapped his arm around Trai's waist.

"God, she's growing up too fast," Trai sighed, shaking her head. "Let's move into the kitchen, okay? I need to start cooking. Grilled cheese okay to you all?"

Roger and Mimi laughingly agreed, and as they went into the kitchen Mark told her, "Nothing fancy, and you've been on your feet all morning. I am taking over, as there is no conceivable way I can botch grilled cheese."

"Fine." Trai surrendered her right to the stove, as she knew her protests were useless. She took a seat by Roger and Mimi, watching Lauren with a look of love for her niece and anticipation for her own baby. "She's the sweetest thing, you guys. And following in her mama's footsteps, from what I hear?"

"That she is," Roger smiled. "What about you guys? You think you want the baby to be a writer or a filmmaker?"

"We go back and forth on the idea of our little Austen or Spielberg," Trai laughed.

"I don't want my son or daughter to struggle like I do," Mark shrugged, shutting the refrigerator door with his hip.

"And I don't think I want to give the phone calls my mom gave me when I started writing erotica. So, at the moment, that's a no."

They hadn't had a chance to get together and talk in a while, and it was something they all needed. It gave Trai the opportunity to play with Lauren, something she loved to do. After they finished eating, she went into the living room with Mimi, settling onto the floor and smiling, making Lauren laugh as she laughed, too.

Mark leaned against the doorjamb of the kitchen, watching her with a smile on his face. He'd noticed from the first time she'd held Lauren, that day in the hospital, that Trai was great with kids, and while he'd been a little uncertain on the issue himself, he couldn't deny that now, he was the happiest he could possibly be—and so was she.

Roger knew just what his friend was thinking. "She'll be great, man. You will, too."

"Almost three more months," Mark sighed contentedly, sipping at the glass of water he held in his hand. "Can you believe the time's gone by so fast?"

"No," Roger laughed. "Not a damn bit."

* * *

Some nights, the kicking of the baby made it hard for Trai to sleep. She had other things on her mind, as well—worries, fears, concerns. For her to be up late at night was definitely nothing new.

Her refuge during her sleepless nights was the fire escape. It gave her a place to think, to watch the few stars visible in the City, in addition to the sunrise, something she found beautiful. It gave her a chance to breathe. Restless, she decided she wanted to do that now.

She pulled a sweatshirt on over her pajamas and gently kissed Mark's forehead, though he was still asleep, as she left the bedroom. She noticed as she got to the window that Roger was sitting a level below.

Hearing a window open, Roger looked up and immediately rushed up to her level to help her out. "You know you could hurt yourself, right?"

"Not as long as Mark keeps pregnant-woman-proofing everything. I'm fine," Trai insisted, easing down onto the landing and sitting with her knees up. Roger closed the window behind her and sat beside her. "Hasn't been just us in a while, huh?"

"Yeah. My fault," Trai apologized. "Brad moved out, and I had to talk out a couple things with Mark… emotional baggage. We're good now, though."

"I've noticed. I think this is the happiest I've seen you in a long time."

"Definitely," Trai nodded, leaning back against the window and looking over at him. "What about you? Are you happy?"

"For the first time… yeah. I really think I am. Lauren's okay, she's walking and talking… Mimi's doing great… I'm not sick anymore… you and Mark are happy… I feel… well, great, actually. Like things're coming together, for once."

"Feels that way. To be honest with you, Rog, for a month or two last year, I really doubted Mark and I could make it. In the beginning, I didn't think I could possibly trust him, and after the miscarriage, it just felt like we'd never get back to normal."

"Things tend to get rough for us in one way or another every year. Three years ago, it was for me and Mimi; the year after that, Collins took off on sabbatical; last year, you and Mark went through… everything you did."

Trai paused, thinking things over. "In a way… I wonder sometimes if it would've worked out with Grace. I think it would've been too soon for us. Much as we love each other, I doubt it would've worked."

It was strange to think of the fact that she and Mark could have had a newborn right around now. Yet again, not for the first time since Grace's would-have-been due date had come and passed, Trai shook back the thoughts of that future.

"You know we would have helped," Roger reminded her. "We would've helped you guys with anything. Trai, I don't know if I've ever told you how good I think you were—and still are—for Mark. None of us ever thought he'd get into a serious relationship again after Maureen. Commitment just freaked him out. But I knew… as soon as I saw the way he looked at you in the alley that day, I knew that you and him would work somehow. He loved you too damn much for it not to."

Trai sighed, remembering that day—her old situation. She hated thinking of all the times she'd fought Danny, Micah, Holly—all of them trying to help. Even from rehab, Danny had tried all he could, turning to Micah and Holly when his pleas with her to let him help went in vain. "I'm so glad I have him," she murmured. "I used to think, if I ever broke up with Jason, would I just keep ending up with the same scum?"

Roger squeezed her shoulder gently. "My mom had that problem. Still does. My dad was a deadbeat. But you won't end up like that again, Trai, I promise you. Trust me, I'll gladly kick the ass of anyone who tries to hurt you like that again—even Mark, if it comes to that."

Trai smiled, weakly, but her mind was elsewhere. "Jason'll be out in a couple years," she sighed. "Four at the most…"

"Hey, look here." Roger put his arm around her and watched her steadily as he swore, "Trai, he will _never_ hurt you again, not as long as I'm around."

Trai nodded, reassured. "Danny would've said the same," she said with a small laugh. "He was always so damn overprotective… and I know I've told you that you remind me of him. Trust me, that's a compliment."

"I can tell." Roger ruffled her hair gently, a comforting gesture. "You should probably be sleeping."

"You're right." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll stop by more often, okay?"

"No problem. Sleep well."

"I will. 'Night, Rog."

"'Night, Trai."

* * *

Trai had Friday mornings off, which allowed for her coffee with Angie. Recently, with Brad in the City, he'd been coming along, too. This week, Angie had asked them if they wouldn't mind her bringing Nick.

Trai was delighted. Two of her closest friends, neither of whom had ever had much luck with men, were finally getting what they deserved. Brad was still tentative about his relationship with Tom, but having been there before herself, Trai knew that feeling would disappear very soon.

Wearing a light jacket, happy the cold weather was over and done with, Trai walked down to Café Insomnia. Brad was already there, sitting in their usual spot. Once inside, she crept over and lightly tapped his shoulder. "Can I ask why such a fine gentleman is sitting alone?"

"Merely because I was waiting for a lovely lady such as yourself." Brad smiled and shut the GQ he'd been perusing. Standing, he pulled her into a hug. "Seems like you and the baby are getting on fine without me, dear," he said, with a glance at her stomach, which was keeping them from embracing fully.

"Indeed we are, but I'm lost without your makeup skills," Trai laughed. "I need to call you before I go out in public." Settling into a comfortable position, she added, "Mark and I miss you. And the baby is doing well—very well."

"I still say it's weird to hear you talking about a family, considering you made Ethan swear off all thoughts of children on the second date."

"Ethan and I having children would never have worked out. He was a sweetheart, really, but it still never would've worked. I actually really didn't want kids until I met Mark. Roger and Mimi were having Lauren, Maureen and Joanne were adopting… just kinda struck me that I was 27 and not getting any younger. Thus, here we are." She smiled. "And it's not a bad place to be, really. How're you and Tom doing, honey?"

Brad gave a small smile. "We're doing… pretty well, actually. Nothing's happened yet, because the whole thing with Justin kind of ruined any ability I had to trust, but… I think that soon we'll start… taking it further."

Trai, Brad, and Angie had each entered their relationships tentatively—and yet, they'd worked. Trai was engaged and pregnant. Angie was finally happy again. Trai felt better knowing that Brad, who'd suffered a betrayal worse than the abuse she'd gone through, would be taken care of by Tom, someone who knew what it was like. She liked Tom, and wanted to get to know him better. She felt, in her heart, that Brad would be just fine with him.

She covered Brad's hands with hers and squeezed them. "I'm happy for you, honey. Tom, too."

"You maybe wanna meet for dinner soon? You and Mark, Tom and me?"

"Sounds perfect. I'll let Mark know."

As they were catching up, Angie entered, her fingers twined with Nick's and a bright smile on her face. She hugged her friends tightly, then pulled away and motioned to Nick. "Guys, Nick Fannon, my boyfriend. Nick, you already know Tracy Buscemi, Danny's sister, and you haven't met Bradley Calloway, my good friend from Dartmouth."

"Call me Brad, please. Dearest Angela seems to forget that around company." Brad laughed. The use of her full name earned him a whack upside the head from Angie.

"Really nice to meet you, Brad." Nick returned Brad's handshake, looking at Trai next. "And it's so good to see you again, Trai. Holding up all right?"

"Extraordinarily well, actually, given the whole getting-married-and-having-a-baby-at-the-same-time thing. How have you been? It's been ages."

"It has," Nick remarked as he and Angie sat across from them. "I was working at an ad agency back in Boston, but I got transferred here. You?"

"Moved out here with Angie after college, then moved in with my boyfriend at the time, Jason. My book was published when I was 23; I've been working at it ever since. I got another published last year; third one will be out soon."

"We expect Trai to be a regular Danielle Steel someday," Brad teased lightly.

After Betsy came and took their order, Trai glanced over at Angie. "What've you been trying out for lately?"

"A couple plays. Some sitcom my agent found—something about six friends. From what I've read, it feels like they live in the damn coffeehouse."

"As do we, my dear," Trai laughed. "Kind of sad when you think about how long we've been coming here. Mark thinks I'll die of a caffeine overdose. Haven't drank coffee since I found out I was pregnant, but it's entirely plausible."

"What does Mark do, again?" Nick asked.

"He's a filmmaker; works as a tech advisor at NYU as well. You'll probably meet him soon—Ang, been meaning to ask you over for dinner. We need to get started on the bridesmaid stuff, too; Brad, could you help with that?"

"My pleasure," Brad smiled. "And duty as the token gay."

"I remember," Nick mused, after a few moments of silence, looking at Trai and Angie, "the first time the two of you came to Harvard. Didn't you get lost somewhere along the way?"

"Yes, because for some bizarre reason Angie thought my sense of direction was reliable."

"Not my fault you can't read a map, dear."

"Married couple, I'm telling you," Brad joked to Nick, who agreed.

"Y'know, Brad, keep this up and you'll get on my bad side," Angie said, with a shake of her head.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop!" Brad held his hands up in surrender.

For the next few minutes, Trai stayed quiet as she sipped at the water Betsy had brought her. She wanted to just watch for a couple seconds. It was very obvious that her friends were okay—and something about that put her heart at ease. Everything felt right.

"Did you and Mark decide on the honeymoon yet?" Angie asked Trai, who smiled.

"We're not totally sure yet, but I've been pulling for Hawaii…"

* * *

"I'm really sorry about this, guys," Julia said quietly to Maureen and Joanne as she led them out of the subway station that night, holding Rachel's carrier. "My parents know about you and all; they just… want to see Rachel's being taken care of." She turned. "I know you guys are great to her—I do. Davey does, too. But my parents, his parents…"

"We understand," Joanne assured her, "it's fine." Both her and Maureen had come from upper-class families, and while they did indeed understand, it did not make it any easier. They'd both dressed their nicest, in an effort to help the approval along. Despite all forewarnings from Julia and Davey, it was doubtful the whole "lesbian couple" deal would go over well.

"How're the others doing? Mark and Trai, Roger and Mimi? Collins?" Julia tried to make conversation on the walk to the brownstone.

"Mark and Trai are doing fine, but I can guarantee you Mark's probably still freaking out," Maureen laughed. "He needed someone like her, though. Roger and Mimi are excited; Lauren's just started walking and talking. And Collins is doing great, actually—he's started dating that friend of Trai's from college. Brad, I think his name was."

Julia smiled. "That's really great," she said softly, slowing down as they came to the building. Davey was outside by the stoop, pacing nervously; Julia could hear him reciting French verb conjugations. "It's how he calms down," she explained quietly, handing the bassinet to Maureen and going over to Davey, tapping his shoulder, which made him jump. "Jules! You scared me…"

"Sorry," Julia apologized quietly. Motioning to the door, she lowered her voice. "How bad is it?"

"Bad. Brian's already got a few drinks in him; Lynn's still in denial that Rachel's even mine. Sorry," he added, squeezing her shoulder gently—he felt terrible about the aspersions cast on Julia. Brian and Lynn were his own parents; he called them by their first names in an effort to distance himself from them.

Davey nervously shoved his hands into the pockets of his navy blazer. "Should we go inside?"

"Now or never," Julia said quietly, standing on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. He put his arm around her waist and led Julia into the battlefield that was her own home. Slowly, Maureen and Joanne followed.

Martha, Julia's mother, was in the kitchen setting the table. Jacob, her father, was with Brian, drinking slowly from a wineglass.

"Mom? Mrs. Adair?" Julia called into the kitchen. "Mom, they're here."

Martha came out and wiped her hands on her apron. "Hello, Misses—Johnson and Jefferson, is it?"

"Maureen and Joanne, please." Joanne offered her hand. "Joanne Jefferson. It's a pleasure."

Martha shook her hand, with a smile that actually seemed mostly genuine. "It's nice to meet you. And you're Maureen?"

"I am." Maureen gently handed the bassinet to Julia, who set it on the floor and picked up Rachel, holding her against her hip and bouncing her lightly. Following Joanne's lead, she offered her hand as well. "You have a lovely home."

"Thank you. This is my husband, Jacob."

Jacob set down his wineglass and stood. Like Martha, he actually seemed fairly welcoming, which was encouraging. "It's nice to meet you ladies, finally."

They were introduced to Brian and Lynn in a similar manner, by Davey, but unlike Mr. and Mrs. Keaning, Mr. and Mrs. Adair did not seem in the least happy to know them. Julia watched nervously, her palms sweating as she held Rachel to her. Davey stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder, protectively.

To say the least, the small talk was slightly awkward. Mr. and Mrs. Keaning were more than willing to contribute to the conversation, hoping to put Maureen and Joanne at ease, once they saw how hard they were trying. Mr. and Mrs. Adair, however, were somewhat stiff, Mrs. Adair especially.

When Martha finally announced dinner, it was a relief. She'd made chicken cutlets, something simple and not too formal. Julia tried to smile for Maureen and Joanne. It was going better than she'd thought, save for Davey's parents.

About halfway through the dinner, Brian stood. "Forgive me, Martha, Jacob. Brian and I should be getting home; Brian has a business call he's been waiting on."

"Oh. Well, that's perfectly fine. David, dear, you're welcome to stay if you like," Martha said kindly.

Davey was about to answer when Brian cut in, "David will be coming with us, thank you."

Davey tried to protest as he followed his parents into the hall to get their coats, but Mrs. Adair wouldn't hear of it. As they went outside, Davey shut the door behind them and demanded, "What the hell was that about? What business call?"

"You're no longer allowed to associate with those people, David."

"What people? Maureen and Joanne are great people! So are their friends!"

"You're seventeen, David," Mr. Adair cut in. "You're seventeen and you're not associating with these—_artist_ types. You're going into the firm when you're older, and that settles it."

"What about what I want?"

"If you want to hang around with lesbian types and a girlfriend who may as well be standing at a street corner—"

Davey froze in his tracks, suddenly furious. "Don't you dare say that about Julia," he said in a low voice, quite ready to hit his father.

"That child is not yours, David!"

"Rachel's as much mine as I am yours, as much as I'd rather have anyone else in the world for parents!" Davey snapped. "Julia and I love each other! We made one mistake and we did all we could to make the best of it—to make other people happy! Rachel has a good life, a better one than you ever gave me!"

"How do you suppose that?" Mrs. Adair demanded.

"She won't grow up pressured to do every fucking thing perfectly! She won't grow up forced to do something she doesn't want to do! She won't grow up listening to her parents fucking throwing plates at each other every damn night!" he yelled. It was well known that his parents' marriage was on the rocks, though it wasn't something he was supposed to know about.

"Never speak to your mother that way!"

"Fine, I won't. I'm not coming home tonight," Davey snapped, going back into the Keanings' and shutting the door behind him, his face flushed and angry.

Julia had left the kitchen, sitting in the living room in order to feed Rachel her bottle. She looked up as he came back in, getting up. "Davey?"

"I'm staying here tonight; that all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, Mom won't mind… Davey, what happened out there?" she asked quietly, having heard the shouting.

"Nothing," Davey said tiredly, sinking down on the couch. "I'm tired of taking their crap. I'm not doing it anymore, Jules…"

Julia sat down next to him, balancing Rachel in one arm and rubbing Davey's shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey," she said quietly. "I know it sucks."

"I love you… you know that, right? No matter what they say to me, I love you? And Rachel?"

"I know. She does, too," Julia said gently, setting Rachel in his arms and leaning over, kissing him. "I love you, too."

* * *

Brad's take-it-slow approach didn't bother Collins in the slightest. Neither of them was in a huge rush to start dating again, but lately Brad was very slowly starting to embrace the "no time like the present" mentality of the whole crew.

He'd worked up the nerve to tell his parents, who, though somewhat conservative, had always been very tolerant of his sexuality. Though they were saddened and shocked, they'd told him that they'd always support him, with his father Richard promising to cover any medical expenses, and his mother Vera just holding him and making him promise to come home more often.

He'd called his sister Cathy, who lived in Florida with her husband. Cathy had always felt terrible for falling out of touch with her kid brother ever since her marriage and his going off to college, and felt even guiltier after the call. They'd stayed on the phone for hours, and she'd promised to fly up soon with her husband and kids so they could get better acquainted.

He'd found a job with a dance studio that was in need of instructors. Like he'd told Mark, he was running again. He'd become friendly with his neighbors, and his relationship with Collins had been deepening.

His life was slowly coming together again, something he'd thought impossible after the diagnosis. He had Trai and Angie again, couldn't be happier for either of them. He had a new relationship, a new place, new friends.

Life was good.

The day after his coffee with Trai, Angie, and Nick, Collins came to his apartment for lunch, and with the ulterior motive of finally convincing Brad to come to Life Support.

"Settling in?" he questioned, looking around at the nearly-fully-unpacked apartment. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and the hardwood floor gleamed with polish—clearly Brad had been busy since moving in.

Brad nodded as he set down the plate with the sandwiches. "Angie and Trai've been helping. I'd rather Trai didn't, what with the baby and all, but she's stubborn."

"Which is why she's a great match for Mark," Collins laughed. "She's really been great for him, though. Boy was pathetic after Maureen dumped him."

"He's been really great for her, too. I was there when she broke up with her boyfriend in Dartmouth, and she was so convinced there was no one for her. I told her I'd be right," he smirked, biting into his sandwich.

They talked as they ate, until Collins finally said, "You remember that support group I mentioned?"

Having a feeling he knew where this was going, Brad nodded. "I do."

"There's a meeting tonight," Collins suggested. "You should come."

Brad bit his lip. He was coming to terms with the diagnosis, but he didn't exactly want to get up in front of other people and put it out there. It wasn't something he felt comfortable with. "I… really don't know…"

"Trai already told me she'd come. Mark, too."

It was a bit of a ploy (though a truthful one), but Brad was encouraged by the thought that it wouldn't be total strangers. He finally agreed to go, a silent victory for Collins and a small step for Brad.

And so it was that Brad found himself, later that evening, sitting in the Ryder Community Center with a group of about seven other people. Shortly after they arrived, the door opened again and Trai and Mark entered, hand in hand. Trai sat down next to Brad and kissed his cheek in greeting. "I'm proud of you," she said softly.

Introductions and updates commenced. Trai and Mark had been there a few times during the early days of their engagement and Trai's first trimester, and it was obvious to all that they'd been doing wonderfully since then. Collins gave a brief update of his own, and suddenly Brad found himself in the spotlight. Performer though he was, he felt suddenly nervous. Remembering the feeling from their own first days at Life Support, all were patient, sympathetic.

Finally he ventured, "I'm… my name's Bradley Calloway. Only my mother calls me that, so don't even." This earned a small chuckle from the group, which made Brad ease up some. "I was… diagnosed with HIV about two months ago. It's been difficult to accept, but… I'm getting there, I think."

"It gets easier, I assure you," Paul told him. "Does anyone have a topic for today?"

After a brief silence, Zack, a piercing-adorned youth of 19, volunteered, "Fear."

"Good suggestion, Zack. We'll start with that. Doubtless all of you have experienced fear and doubts of some kind in the past year. A new diagnosis or a health scare can be terrifying. So can a new relationship—or an engagement. Not being a woman myself, I can't know how terrifying childbirth mush seem or actually be. Tracy?"

"Be content with not knowing," Trai laughed.

"As I figured. The best way to deal with fear is to get it out there—talk about it. Anyone want to start?"

Glancing at Brad, Trai cleared her throat. "I agree with what you said about new relationships. Most of you don't know, but… I had a bad past. For a few years at least I was caught in a relationship that wasn't going anywhere. It was just getting worse. It took my brother dying—and almost dying myself—for me to realize that things had to change.

"I found Mark, and even though it scared me, I went for it. And yeah, we went through a lot, but we went through it all together. Things've changed for me. Am I still scared something will happen? All the damn time. But I know to talk now. I can trust again. And I value that—and Mark—more than anything," she finished softly. Mark gently squeezed her hand.

The others volunteered their own stories. Melissa, a tiny, quiet college girl, had tried to kill herself over her fear that she wasn't perfect. Zack had been struggling with prescription drug addiction. Paul told about when he'd been diagnosed. Mark related his fear of being alone, of not remembering the past.

With all the talking, and especially Trai's words about how loving Mark had turned things around for her, Brad started to come around. Delaying things, he realized, was just taking time he didn't have much of, anymore.

He was going to stop being afraid.

He was going to go for it.

Collins told him he'd walk home with him, and noticed while they did that Brad looked pensive. "Wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, it was… eye-opening. It was good." Brad paused for a long while, before saying, tentatively, "Tom?"

"Yes?"

Brad stopped walking, and so did Collins. Slowly, Brad said, "I'm… not used to this. I was with Justin for four years and out of nowhere I find out he basically betrayed me. Beyond that, the most relationship experience I have is flings when I was a teenager and a couple one-night stands.

"I'm a morning person. I run more than is probably healthy. The coffee I make can remove grease stains. But I really like you and I think I want to—"

Before he could say another word, Collins stepped closer and kissed him.

When they broke apart, he asked, "You were saying?"

"I… I think I want to start something with you," Brad finished, heat coursing through every inch of his body.

Collins smiled, slowly. "I do, too."

* * *

**A/N- My lovelies, I am so sorry!! It's been months! Eeek**

**When I updated last, I was attempting to procrastinate from studying for my ACTs, among other things. Before I knew it everything piled on-ACTs, Physics, holidays, my seventeenth birthday. Weekends became so busy that my typing time became nonexistent, and I had extreme difficulty with the part of this chapter with Julia and Davey's parents.**

**Please forgive me-I will try to make my updates _much_ sooner!!**

**Tina101- Well, I hope you liked the Brad/Collins in this chapter-finally figured it was time for them to take a step forward.**

**Srgirl6889- I'm quite flattered! Sorry about the long wait! And the part about Trai and Mark shopping was actually written when I was extremely tired, so I'm glad you like it, haha.**

**Diva Actress- Sorry about the wait! I didn't have time to type at all**

**Scififreakmi- Glad you liked it!**

**Birdhearted- Glad you liked it, and sorry for the slow wait!**

**Blueroses311- Thanks so much! I love to hear that! I take it you've read _Love For Rent_? I appreciate the compliments on Trai a lot; I've worked really hard to make her real. **

**Midnightpopcorn- Thank you!**

**Kai-24601- Thank you! And I love the Les Mis reference in your pen name!**

**For those of you asking me about _Twilight_, no, I never had a chance to get around to it, but a close friend of mine just inhaled all three and told me they were amazing, so I will try to soon!**

**Thank you all for being so patient! Next update fairly soon!!**

**- Sally.**


	10. Interlude: Winning

"_Open your chest and take the heart from it  
Open your chest—what's bad? We'll fix it.  
What's wrong? We'll make it all right."_

- "Winning"  
Emily Haines

Interlude  
Winning

**June 26, 2011**

"_Off the premises, now! We don't give handouts here!" The pastor, running after him, chasing him from the church._

"_What happened to 'Rest In Peace'?" Mark was asking, indignant, infuriated._

"_Off the premises, queer!"_

The words from the memory still rang in Tom Collins' ears even as he made his way through the graveyard. Twenty-one years ago, and already it felt like a lifetime away. Twenty-one years and the world was better in some ways, worse in others, but better for him.

All of them had sat in Mark's apartment three years before, watching on TV as Proposition 8 overturned California's ruling about gay marriage. Silent tears had been cried and sighs of resignation and disappointment had been the only thing any of them could manage for some time. It wasn't their state, and some would say it didn't matter, but it meant everything in the world, and anyone who couldn't understand that didn't really get it. It all came down to follow the leader—if it passed in California, they'd thought, surely New York wouldn't be far behind.

It had taken three years, but here it was. Gay marriage was legal in New York. He'd thought he was dreaming when he'd seen it on TV, in the headlines on every news site he visited, when he opened his inbox to see every article imaginable forwarded to him accompanied by exclamation points and deliriously happy effusions from his friends.

He kneeled by Angel's grave and set down the roses, tracing his fingers affectionately over the headstone. There were so many things he'd wished for over the last twenty-one years. He'd wished that Angel had been alive to see what the others had gone on to do, how she'd inspired them to do it. He'd wished she'd been alive for the advancements in their medication, for the implementation of the drug cocktails that now made it almost entirely possible to live a full and healthy life.

He wished she'd been alive to see this, most of all.

"We won," was what he said, softly, almost inaudibly. "It's different now. Better. You'd have loved it."

He sat there for quite some time, listening to the wind and the far off sounds of the parade-goers, marching and cheering and waving their flags. Then he kissed his fingers and pressed them to the gravestone, before he left the cemetery to join the march: a celebration of their victory.

* * *

**A/N: Do not adjust your laptop settings, loves. You're not hallucinating that alert email in your inbox, I swear.**

**Yes, I'm still Sally, and I'm back in full force, albeit three years later! I'm dreadfully, dreadfully sorry about the delay, loves, and this little piece is my way of offering consolation and seeing just how many of my readers are still out there! So many of you still have this on alert and I'd be delighted to hear from you again.**

**By way of apology: when you last saw me, I was in the middle of taking my SATs, my ACTs, filling out my college applications, and all kinds of things you have to do your junior and senior years of high school. It's a busy time, and I didn't have as much time as I wanted to write (more specifically, to type up my chapters, which were handwritten). I was trying to get into college, and once I got into college, it was hard to find time to write, as I needed to stay there!**

**More to the point, I'd violated one commandment writers should obey: _thou shalt not lose thine drafts_. That's right, I misplaced the notebook that had my detailed, chapter-by-chapter analysis of what was supposed to happen in _Burning Up_. I remembered the ending I had planned, but not how to get there, and I didn't want to start planning all of that over again and risk deviating from my original course.**

**Lo and behold, yesterday, in the hunt for my elusive bedroom floor, I found the notebook! I swear, my intention is to finish this fic no matter what it takes. I'm twenty now, hopefully a bit wiser, and I promise not to leave you guys hanging again!**

**I'd love to see how many of you are still around and interested. It still amazes me that people are finding and reading this and _LFR_ even now, four years later, and I'm extremely touched. I hope you guys enjoy the little interlude (and for those of you who are wondering, yes, I was nonspecific about who's alive, who's with who, and such on purpose—wouldn't want to ruin the end I've got planned!), and this is a taste of, hopefully, good things to come!**

**Love you all, and see you on the flip side!**

**- Sally.**


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